


Submission to the Heat of Desire

by smallstarfox



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blushing, Body Worship, Consensual, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, First Time, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Love Bites, Lube, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Neck Kissing, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Roleswap, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Scratching, Shower Sex, Slow Dancing, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Werewolf Bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26323084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallstarfox/pseuds/smallstarfox
Summary: (Sapphic Smutember Prompts) A series of weekly oneshots as part of smutember. Each prompt is individually rated in the notes, ranging from T to E. Pairings will be Thasmin, Thorsair and Thidris. Roleswap W! Master/Yaz may also appear.
Relationships: The Corsair/Thirteenth Doctor, Thirteenth Doctor/Idris (Doctor Who: The Doctor's Wife), Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Whittaker!Master/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 44





	1. Week One

**Author's Note:**

> **Snuggles:** Teen, thasmin  
>  **First Time:** Teen, thasmin  
>  **Quickie:** Explicit, thasmin  
>  **Do That Again:** Explicit, thasmin  
>  **Tangled:** Teen, thasmin  
>  **Guided:** Teen, thasmin

1 - Snuggles

It had only been an hour since they had come back from 1960s Paris, but the Doctor was already itching for company. Despite having taken her fam to a wonderful ball and midnight party - she still had a loose tie around her neck and a half tucked shirt - she wanted to be around people again. Not just people though, she specifically wanted to be around Yaz. It had all come about because one of the noblewomen had taken quite a shine to her. The Doctor wouldn’t consider her jealous by any means, it was a pointless emotion that she let wash over her, but it had made her feel a little neglected and unwanted. Through no fault of Yaz’s. She was entitled to do whatever she wanted, and the Doctor had shown Graham and Ryan around the palatial ballroom instead. Also eaten far too many macarons. When the night had come to an end, she had said goodnight to all of them and had half a mind to call it a night herself. The Doctor was due a round of sleep, but none of the rooms appealed to her. Her own bedroom felt dull and cold, and many of the spare rooms the TARDIS pulled up seemed void of what she needed as well. The beds were perfectly comfortable, and her body was quite content in all of them.

But they weren’t with Yaz.

She dragged her fingers through her hair and let out a yawn, tugging the tie from around her neck and dropping it against one of the levers on the console. The TARDIS piped up with a series of beeps and a groan, which made the Doctor smile. Of course she was making her go to bed. Typical. She lovingly patted the cold metal and sighed quietly before dragging herself through and out of the console room. Surely it would be a pain to go and see Yaz now. Chances were she was already sound asleep, free from the confines of her rather dashing crimson dress, tucked up and dreaming. She would have been doing exactly the same, if her body weren’t pertinent in its demands. As she traipsed through the hallways, the Doctor let her star-spangled blazer drop to the floor. It would all be gone by the morning, and it wouldn’t be the first time she had left her belongings around the TARDIS and found them in her room some time later on. Her shoes were next to be kicked aside, and the Doctor walked slow in grey striped socks. Waistcoat vanished behind her, followed soon after by the fitted black trousers, leaving the Doctor standing outside Yaz’s bedroom door in little more than a half-open shirt and long-legged boxers. 

The Doctor paused there, pondered, wondering if she should go until she heard the faint sound of movement. Clearly, Yaz wasn’t asleep yet. Or, she was just very restless. Her breath stilled as she tuned in to the sounds behind the door, hearing the sound of cotton on cotton and the heft of the mattress underneath weight. Yaz was most definitely awake, and the Doctor was nothing if not ready to hedge her bets. Cautious knuckles rapped against the pale wood, and the Doctor took two steps back as she waited. For a moment, there was nothing, and she wondered if perhaps Yaz had very quickly dropped off. But then, she heard movement again, followed by a quiet voice seemingly mid-yawn.

“Co-aaah-ome in.”

That was far too sweet.

Pushing the door slightly, the Doctor slid her head through the gap and peered into the room. Yaz was sitting up in bed, a small blanket around her shoulders as the duvet covered her legs. A book was propped up with one hand while the other was tucked away. Most of the room was dark, save for a colour changing star lamp that sat just to the left of where Yaz was sat. It bathed the room in a faint glow of colours. There was a smile on her face, which made the Doctor smile too.

“Sorry. Am I bothering you? ‘Cause I can go if I am.”

Yaz shook her head slowly, shuffling under the duvet for a moment.

“No. It’s fine. Are you alright? I thought you were going to bed too.”

“I was. Sort of. I mean, I’ve been to many beds in the last hour. Just...not really stayed in them for very long. Obviously. And the beds were unoccupied too...also obviously. In case you were wondering...you know…”

The Doctor watched as Yaz folded the book up and placed it on her bedside cabinet, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she gestured for the Doctor to come on. With a whispered exclamation, she did just that, squeezing awkwardly around the door and pressing her back against it. She could see Yaz looking at her quizzically, before remembering her strange state of dress.

“Sorry. Was trying to get comfy. Got so far, then sorta...stopped. Ended up here.”

“Doctor, if you wanted to come with me, you could have just asked. I wasn’t going to have said no or anything.”

“I know...just...felt weird to say around the boys. I know they know, and we know, and all that but...you know? Still feels strange to me. But, does that mean I can come join you then?”

Quite frankly, the Doctor was beyond adorable, and Yaz was hardly in a position to say no to her now. Really, she was a little glad that she had decided to turn up, as a small part of her wanted to be near her after a night quite far apart. With a nod, yaz flung back the covers to her bed, and couldn’t help but laugh as the Doctor scrambled out of her shirt and almost dived headlong into the bed to join her. She didn’t mind that the Doctor wasn’t a fan of nightwear - clothes are for the day, not sleeping in, she said - and actually found herself enjoying such intimate contact. The Doctor wasted no time in wrapping her arms around Yaz and pulling her close, breathing in the scent of fresh hair and clean skin. And, an afternote of cake. Yaz settled down further under the covers, stroking her hand up and down the Doctor’s hip.

“This body’s so weird. Most of the time, I don't want anyone near me. But right now, this is the best thing in the universe. Have I ever told you how soft you are, Yaz? Because you really are.”

Placing a kiss on top of the Doctor’s head, Yaz hummed a quiet response before closing her eyes. The Doctor was a perfect bed companion really, able to do all kinds of things with her body temperature. Right then, it was like she was hugging a giant hot water bottle, or a teddy bear. She was wonderfully warm and tactics, just like Yaz loved. She carefully slotted one leg in between the Doctor’s, tangling themselves both up into a mass of contented limbs. Yaz knew it wouldn’t be long before she had to roll away and actually go to sleep, but until then, she was going to enjoy every second of being so wrapped up in the Doctor.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best person to hug?”

“Pretty much every night we do this, yeah.”

“Good. Because you deserve to hear it, because it’s true. You really are the best person, Doctor. Don’t ever forget that.”

* * *

2 - First Time

“Are you sure about this?”

“More sure than I’ve been of anything else. I promise.”

She had to be sure. It was the most loaded question Yaz had ever heard the Doctor ask, but her answer was true all the same. She really was more sure than anything else. Really, there was nothing else she had wanted more. Or, thought about more. Days and weeks and months had gone by where she had tried so hard to get the Doctor’s attention. Yaz had found herself daydreaming about all sorts of things; holding the Doctor’s hand, tucking strands of hair behind her ear, kissing her. Now, they were there. Pressed against each other on a sofa, the Doctor hovering over her and staring at her with such intensity. It was mesmerising, to finally see all the colours at play in her eyes. Hazel, green, blue, gold, brown...so many different multitudes to the Doctor that Yaz wanted nothing more than to discover. She ran her hands up and down the front of the Doctor’s coat, gently urging her closer until finally - finally - she could kiss her. It was chaste at first, a simple peck on the lips, and she could feel the Doctor smiling.

It didn’t take long before the Doctor got onto the same page. While she continued to bear her weight with her hands, she let some of her weight be passed over to Yaz as her lips pressed firmer and her evident experience became apparent. Not that she was complaining, no Yaz was surprisingly okay with having let go of her control of the situation long ago. Sure, the sofa wasn’t exactly the best place she had in mind, but it was quiet and intimate and the Doctor was all she needed. Especially when she teased her teeth against her lower lip. Yaz couldn’t stop the groan escaping, and momentarily froze with wide eyes. The Doctor didn’t seem to mind, enjoying it by the deep colour in her cheeks, and simply smiled as she peppered kisses across her cheeks.

“Sorry...I didn’t mean-”

“Yaz, please. Like I haven’t heard anything like that before. You do whatever makes you comfortable, and you tell me if you don’t like something. If you do...well, just do that.”

As much as Yaz wanted to respond, she found herself entirely too distracted as the Doctor’s lips moved down the side of her jaw. Electric sparks crossed her skin, dug deep into her bones and made her feel lighter than air. Soon enough, the Doctor was balancing on one hand, the other slowly making its way down her side and clutching at her hip. She couldn’t help but twist into the touch, tilting her head to the side and resting her cheek against a pillow as the Doctor paused between the curve of her jaw and under her earlobe. Hot breath made her skin light like embers, a deep throaty rumble emanating from the Doctor as she brushed her lips against her ear. Yaz’s hips twitched, body wanting to move so much more than it could whilst underneath the Doctor. But it was a nice kind of restriction, and part of her was thankful that at least it was less possible to fall off the sofa while being pressed so deeply into the satin.

“You’re so beautiful Yaz.”

The Doctor whispered into her skin, resuming a slow meandering path down the slope of her neck. She paused again at the hammering pulse against her lips, kissing it softly twice over before she moved lower still. Yaz twisted an arm out from underneath her, sliding it over the Doctor’s shoulder and resting it on top of her head, fingers stroking through her hair and across her scalp. It was an anchor, a weight to keep her in the real world, and she was surprised to hear the Doctor sigh softly from the contact. Yaz shifted her fingers, clung a little tighter and waited for the disapproval. Apparently the Doctor was more than content with what she was doing, kissing back up her neck and teasing her teeth across her skin.

“I won’t do anything. Not yet. Maybe another time.”

_ ‘Another time…’ _

Selfishly, Yaz hoped there would be many more ‘other times’ to come yet. The Doctor was so gentle with her, even when she seemed hungry against the slope of her neck. Her touch was light and soft, and she paused to shift back up and tempt Yaz into looking at her as her hand nudged at the hem of her shirt.

“Can I?”

Yaz nodded, her eyes travelling briefly to the Doctor’s coat. Hazel-green eyes followed the stare as best she could, before the Doctor made a strange noise and started to shift around her on the sofa. She hopped from arm to arm, carefully sliding the long grey-blue coat from her body and letting it drop to the floor.

“Sorry. Didn’t exactly come prepared.”

“Neither did I. I think it’s better that way though.”

Settling back down above her, the Doctor slowly pushed her hand underneath the fabric of Yaz’s polka-dot shirt, fingers cool against warm skin. Yaz could feel the shivers as she worked her way up, forgetting entirely as the Doctor kissed her again. Her hand stilled against her stomach, rested there as she slowly tested her tongue against her lower lip. Yaz groaned at the touch, gladly allowing the Doctor to part her way further. Her head pressed into the pillows at the tease of pressure, of a tongue against her own, hips twisting again under the weight hovering over her. It didn’t take long before the Doctor started to inch her hand upwards again, breaking past the tightness of buttons across her chest and slowly starting to palm at her left breast. Yaz’s back arched at the contact, breaking away from the kiss with closed eyes as she whined softly.

“First time I’ve done this in this body. Everything feels so much more tactile now, so much more...alive.”

First time? Of course it was. Why was Yaz even surprised. How could the Doctor possibly have found time to- Why would it matter even if she had? To stop the onslaught of thoughts starting to pour into her head - of doubt, feelings of self-consciousness, shame - Yaz wrapped both her arms around the Doctor’s neck and pulled her back down into a kiss. First time for everything, and she was going to make sure both of them enjoyed it.

* * *

3 - Quickie

Categorically speaking, it was not the right time. It was nowhere near the right time, and Yaz doubted - quite realistically - if it ever was going to be the right time again. And yet that wasn’t stopping her and the Doctor. No. Logic had gone completely out of the window. Then again, it was impossible to have any logic at all when someone was pressed dangerously close to you with your back against a wall, hot air against your ear and a knee so dangerously close to-

“I can tell this is turning you on.”

Yaz’s mouth opened to respond, but she couldn’t find a retort anywhere inside her head. She was too busy thinking about...other things. Things that, apparently, the Doctor could see. Or hear. Or sense. She wasn't quite sure what angle the Time Lord was working on, but her eyes were saying a lot. Despite being cramped in a very shallow and narrow cupboard, the only light being briefly seen when the Doctor moved away from the doors, Yaz could rightly notice wide pupils. It wasn't just from the dark.

"I can hear your pulse. Louder than both of mine. I can feel how hard your heart is beating, pumping the blood to your face and to your brain so you can process more despite cut off senses."

It took barely any moving at all for the Doctor to part her legs, one hand covering her mouth as Yaz gasped and groaned. All she needed was for them to be found by the guards because she couldn't keep a lid on her reactions. Then again, the Doctor seemed to be enjoying making her squirm as a hand quickly pushed under her shirt. Fingers danced over her skin and Yaz shuddered as the Doctor drew closer to her ear.

"Your eyes are dilated. Sweat clinging to your skin as your body temperature rises by half a degree. All your body on standby, synapses firing and sparking at every little movement."

She punctuated her point by dragging her nails down across her abs and stomach, Yaz's hips bucking into the Doctor and doing nothing more than making her laugh low and quietly. Lips came and left ghosting passes down her neck and back up again as Yaz felt the button of her jeans get opened.

"I can taste the hormonal changes, the spike of adrenaline and oxytocin. Endorphins flooding your brain. The slick heat clinging to your thighs."

As if to prove a point - not like she even needed to - the Doctor's hand disappeared down the front of her jeans and pushed aside her underwear. Sure enough, she was met with a thick line of wetness, fingers gliding through Yaz as she desperately tried to contain her moan. Sadly it was next to impossible, and both of them froze at the sound of encroaching footsteps. Yaz stared into the Doctor's eyes, desperately trying to restrain her body. She wanted to roll her hips, to grind down against her hand as her fingers twitched against her. She wanted to coax them further down, urge the Doctor inside of her, make her crook them and push and twist and-

"I didn't realise you wanted to come that badly Yaz. Good job I only need a couple of minutes to make that happen."

"How did-"

Muffled words came through the Doctor's fingers as Yaz spoke, but she soon found herself cursing under her breath as the Doctor pretty much did exactly what she had been thinking. Her index finger pressed down through the folds of her labia, gathering up her arousal before pushing up to her knuckle. Yaz instinctively rutted against her hand, head pressing hard against the back wall of the cupboard. The Doctor took a moment to stay still, allowing Yaz a moment to get used to the sensation of being stretched so soon. Then, she used the angle of her knee to help guide her thrusts. In and out, finger curling each time, Yaz's eyes quickly closed as she felt the burning pressure start to rapidly rise inside her. It wasn't enough though, not to give her any kind of real satisfaction. She needed more, more than she was currently being given, and certainly so much more than she could even ask for. Yaz hoped that the frantic pace of her hips would give the Doctor a clue, hoped the curl of her fingers against her coat was enough.

"Only another minute and they'll be gone. Do you think you can hold on for that long, Yaz?"

She thought she could, and would have done without any issues. Until the Doctor once again proved she was far too in tune with her body. Middle finger joined and pushed deep inside, Yaz biting back a strangled moan as she stretched further around the Doctor's digits. Pleasure was doubled by the palm and heel of her hand shifting up and down over her clit, dragging up her arousal to keep everything slick and mobile. Teeth dug harder into her lower lip, skin straining under the pressure, and Yaz was almost sure she could taste a faint metallic tinge of blood on her tongue. Except it didn't matter, not at all, because she could hear the Doctor panting against her ear and she was so close to winding undone. The pressure inside her was building line an inferno, a crescendo in sight, so close she knotted her fingers painfully into the fabric of the Doctor’s coat.

But then it was gone. Gone all too soon. The hand covering her mouth fell away, the one inside her jeans now up to the Doctor’s face as she licked clean her fingers. Yaz stared into the dark - dumbfounded - mouth agape as the Doctor twisted to push her free hand against the cupboard door.

“W-what...are you…”

“Time’s up. We can make an escape. Back to the TARDIS. Guard’s are changing shifts so there’s nobody patrolling the halls. Come on, get a shift on.”

Yaz barely had enough time to button her jeans back up, nevermind contend with the thick wetness coating the inside of her thighs and clinging to her underwear. Her legs took far too long to stabilise as she ran, and she swore that the Doctor had all but completely forgotten what they had been up to just a minute before. She wasn’t going to forget, couldn’t even, and every part of Yaz’s brain was screaming at her to not only get the release she so desperately craved. But revenge too. If the Doctor was going to just leave her hanging so close to the edge, then she would pay it back twice as hard. It was a promise.

* * *

4 - "Do that again"

Dark hazel-green eyes stared back at her, pupils heavily dilated, the Doctor still in her presence. Her mouth opened slowly, throat moving as if to respond, but no words came out. Nary a whisper. Not a moan, or sigh. Nothing. Tension grew in the air, thick and heady and swirling endlessly around them. Yaz could feel it - palpable - watched the cogs whirring inside the Time Lord's head as she tried to figure things out on her own side of the field too. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, as endless as the span of the TARDIS interiors, growing louder and louder and consuming everything around them. Yaz held her hand still against the Doctor's head, fingers twitching in tousled blonde hair. She watched the bob of her throat as she swallowed thickly, felt the nervous tension coursing through her veins as the Doctor's eyes fluttered shut and her head fell down to her chest.

"Do that again."

Yaz could barely catch what had been said, only hearing a vague mumble into the Doctor's chest. Her head fell to the side as she questioned her slowly.

"What did you say?"

Again, the silence between words seemed to stretch on forever, and it was any wonder at all that Yaz managed to hear her a second time around.

"D-do that again...please…"

The Doctor slowly lifted her head again, staring at Yaz, watching the way her eyes travelled over her. Her gaze shifted from her face, down the curves of her naked body, and back up again. Yaz furrowed her brows at the request, trying to think which one of the many non-descript things the Doctor could possibly be on about. It wasn't until her head pushed against her fingers, that things clicked.

_ 'Oh.' _

All the tension around them snapped in the second Yaz realised, the confusion on her face shifting until she was smiling. She curled her fingers into the Doctor's hair, nails crossing her scalp as she tugged from the roots. The Doctor's mouth dropped as she let out a sigh, and Yaz found herself burning with adrenaline. She wondered what else the Doctor was aching for? Yaz knew exactly what she was aching for. Fingers tugged harder and dragged the Doctor's face towards her, smile widening as her eyes opened again.

"Screwdriver is the word, okay? Say yes if you understand."

"Yes."

That was that, then.

Yaz let go of the Doctor's hair, but only so she could change position. She crawled across the bed and sat at the foot, turning back around over her shoulder.

"Come here. On the floor."

With a nod, the Doctor slowly clambered off the bed and moved to stand in front of Yaz. A part of her felt oddly nervous, but she was mostly running on excitement and the rapid beat of her hearts. Yaz's eyes dropped to the floor briefly, before lifting back up to the Doctor's face.

"On your knees."

Visibly shuddering at the low and sultry tone with which Yaz commanded her, the Doctor complied almost instantly. She vaguely stumbled on the way down, far too eager it turned out, sitting back on her heels and gazing up at Yaz. Once more, fingers threaded into her hair and the Doctor groaned as she felt herself being tugged forwards. Yaz parted her legs, arching back slightly and bearing herself completely to the Time Lord. It felt strange, being in control and also being so vulnerable, but she knew the Doctor would use their safeword. She had done so before. Yaz held the Doctor firm in place, not allowing her the pleasure of doing anything just yet. Groundwork needed to be laid again. Whole Yaz had many ideas, there was one at the forefront of her mind that sent a fresh wave of arousal through her.

"Now then, Doctor. Are you going to be a good girl and do exactly what I tell you to do?"

The Doctor whined, tried to nod her head but found herself incapable. Yaz tugged her hair in response, shaking and tutting.

"Use your words, Doctor. Good girls use their words, remember?"

"Y-yes Yaz."

"That's better."

She loosened her grip on the Time Lord's hair, moving to stroke through knotted blonde locks and humming as she watched her keen into her touch and sigh in content. It was like two different modes existed in her. Still, Yaz had a need that needed to be satiated, and she was ready to move onto the next step.

"Be a good girl and help me out. Take your time. I want you to savour every drop."

Yaz barely had to coerce the Doctor to move, still keeping her hand against the stop of her head as she felt the first long draw of her tongue. Arching her back and rolling her hips, Yaz let out a low groan as the Doctor did just what she asked of her. She was slow, tender almost, taking delicate laps against her folds and keeping her eyes fixated on her at all times. Though Yaz didn’t register the latter part, her head had rolled back as she sighed and moaned in delight. The Doctor would take her in with the flat of her tongue, before using the tip to twist and swirl over her clit, featherlight touches driving her up a wall of pleasure. Fingers made their way back into blonde hair, urging her closer still, Yaz’s hips continuing to move in time to the Doctor’s strokes.

“Oh...yes. Like that. Gods, you’re so good, Doctor. Just like that. I need more.”

Moaning into Yaz’s skin, the Doctor’s eyes fluttered closed again as she let herself be consumed by her task. Not that it was a task, it was something she very much gained pleasure in doing. She let herself take in every drop, every inch of Yaz she could, senses alight by taste and touch and sound. Her tongue would move to the rhythm of Yaz’s hips, follow the sounds of her moans to the places that seemed to draw the best noises from her. Fingers twitched against the carpet, against her hip, desperate to do more than what she was currently doing. The Doctor was tactile, needed to be kept busy, and it was a crime she couldn’t feel Yaz again with her fingertips. Instead, she imagined scenarios inside her head. Pictured how the warmth felt, the slick arousal coating down her fingers as it slowly worked down Yaz’s thigh, aided by drops of her own saliva. How she could part her way through with ease, teasing strokes further down while she hungrily drank all of Yaz in.

  
  


“Keep going, Doctor. I’m so close…”

Yaz’s legs shifted to rest on top of the Doctor’s shoulders, the hand in her hair tugging harder as she drove the Time lord in as much as she could. Her hips stuttered and judderd, growing haphazard as she began to grind against the Doctor’s face. Her moans grew ever higher, and the Doctor was glad that oxygen and breathing were not exactly completely needed in her species as she continued to work harder and faster to drive Yaz over the edge she could practically see looming on the horizon. If she could end on such a high…the potential reward opportunities...they were enough to make the Doctor come just at the thought alone.

* * *

5 - Tangled

Years. Thousands of years. Endless amounts of years now, that was how long the Doctor had been around for. And yet, some things still completely alluded her. It didn’t matter how much she understood science and technology, or how in control she was of her hands and general space around her, this was apparently far too much for her to comprehend. She huffed and cursed under her breath, staring at red and champagne colours, brows furrowed and brain drawing a blank. In the beginning, Yaz’s request had seemed like nothing at all. Basic. Simple. Something she could picture in her head and go “I can do that.” Except, now she had come to it, it was like she was looking at a language she didn’t even understand. And that was saying something, as she understood at least a hundred or more. What was worse, was that she could feel Yaz looking at her, expectantly. Gods, why had she decided this was a good idea again? With a heavy sigh, the Doctor shook her head and sat back on her legs, bringing her arms into her lap.

“M’sorry, Yaz. Don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.”

Lowering her arms back down onto the bed, Yaz sat up and smiled softly. She reached out and tucked some hair behind the Doctor’s ear before pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. Really, it was taking a lot not to laugh, but she could see how self conscious the Doctor was feeling, and she didn’t want to upset her. Even if seeing her hands completely wrapped in silk was quite the sight. The Doctor eventually softened too, the barest hint of a smile coming across her face. Though really, she was more embarrassed than anything else.

“It’s okay, Doctor. We don’t have to do this if you can’t.”

Yaz took the Doctor’s tangled hands in her own and slowly started to work through the silk ties binding them together. How she had managed to get the knots around her own hands and wrist, instead of Yaz’s was a complete mystery to her. Then again, the Doctor had spent the majority of the day doing something deep in the bowels of the TARDIS, and a small part of her wondered if maybe she was just too tired and was scared to say.

“I know but...I should be able to. I know I can tie knots. I’ve done it loads of times. D-don’t...don’t read into that. Please. Houdini. Remember?”

Yaz simply nodded in response, not really wanting to delve into that statement. Sometimes it was better for her just to ignore how much more experienced the Doctor was than her. She silently worked her way through the silk ties, managing to get the red one completely free of the Doctor and placing it down beside her. The pale one was a lot more difficult to manage - somehow the Doctor had tied several knots between her fingers - and Yaz found herself puffing her cheeks in concentration. There was a huff of amusement from the Time Lord which gave her pause for a moment.

“For someone who’s good with their hands, you really did a number on yourself here, Doctor. I can’t even get some of these.”

“I really don’t know what happened. Also, let me, gimme one sec.”

Taking her hands away, the Doctor lifted the one still tied in silk up to her mouth. She chewed on the fabric, tugging small areas with her teeth and beaming in triumph as she managed to loosen the still-present knots.

“There. Should be easier now. Always find it easier to go too tight with silk. Same with cotton. Unless it’s a tie. Those are alright, they’re designed to come loose, in a way. Wouldn’t ever recommend rope, not unless it really is your thing. Rope burn is no joke. You get scabs, bruises, it’s nasty stuff if done incorrectly. Don’t get me started on the people who think it’s okay to use things like tape...there’s a reason it’s used in crime…”

While Yaz continued to pull away the silk, the Doctor rambled on about various things. She ended up on a tangent from types of things to get tied up in, to ship knots, the ocean, and by the time Yaz had freed her hand, she was babbling on about crustaceans.

“They keep growing forever, Yaz. Imagine if they could get to my age, they’d be bigger than the TARDIS! Don’t ever mess with lobsters. They really hurt when they- Oh, hey, hand’s back!”

The Doctor lifted both of her hands to her face, wiggling her fingers around and looking at them from all angles before dropping them back into her lap with a wide smile. All Yaz could do was finally let out some of the laughter she had been holding onto, pulling the Doctor in for a tight hug.

“You’re a disaster, you know that, right?”

“Hmm. Maybe. But I’m your disaster, though. And at least it was funny this time, right?”

When Yaz let go of her, the Doctor’s face fell slightly as she turned her eyes to the bed and shuffled awkwardly on the spot. Compared to Yaz, who was sat naked, she still had her sports bra and boxers on. Really, things hadn’t gone the way either of them planned at all. It still didn’t bother Yaz, although she felt a pang of guilt when the Doctor spoke.

“Sorry. Again. Do you...have I ruined everything? I’ve killed the mood, haven’t I?”

“It’s okay, Doctor. Really. Come on, why don’t we just cuddle for a bit. Will that make you feel better? I promise you that it’s fine. You haven’t ruined anything.”

There was a moment of silence, before the Doctor mumbled something completely intelligible. At least she nodded her head, Yaz could understand that. Both of them shifted and pulled the duvet back, before sliding underneath. Yaz opened her arms up so that the Doctor could slot in between them, humming in content as she felt her rest her head against her chest. Her hair was soft, the Doctor was warm, and really, it didn’t bother her that they weren’t having sex. Sometimes, it was nicer just to have her girlfriend close by. This was one of those times. The Doctor worked her arms and legs around just enough so that the two of them were as close as could be, smiling as she pressed gentle and slow kisses against Yaz’s breast.

“This is a better kind of mess. Being caught up in you. Love you, Yaz.”

“I love you too, Doctor. Messes and all.”

* * *

6 - Guided

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah...I just…”

Yaz hadn’t realised she had frozen up until the Doctor spoke, still holding her blue trousers in her hands. She quickly dropped them to the floor, arms suddenly wrapping around her chest, clinging tightly. Things had gotten heated very quickly, and far from Yaz to complain she really had enjoyed it. She could feel her heart beating fast, felt the heat prickling her skin, but nerves had suddenly gotten the better of her. With her head turned down and eyes to the side, she didn’t notice the Doctor come closer until there was a hand against her cheek that urged her to look back. She feared that there would be upset in the Doctor’s eyes, but instead all Yaz saw was a warm compassion and a kind smile on her face. The kind of look she knew was reserved only for her, the one she had seen in many tender moments where the rest of the world just fell away entirely. She was guided over to the bed, felt herself being moved through the discarded clothes to safety and comfort. Things had been leading there anyway, although Yaz certainly hadn’t pictured the current circumstances. She mentally berated herself, despite the Doctor talking softly.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Yaz.”

In the dim light of the bedroom, Yaz could see the colour in the Doctor’s cheeks and how dilated her pupils were. She was clearly into what had been happening, so why was she so afraid of it all?

“I…”

How could she say it?

“I’ve never...I’ve never done this before. I mean, I have. I’ve had sex. A couple of times. But...um...not…”

“Not with another woman?”

Chewing her lower lip, Yaz nodded slowly, feeling the earlier adrenaline rapidly fading away. In its place, came embarrassment and shame. Fear that the Doctor would think less of her for her naivety, or be put off all together. Back in school, she had heard stories about how people were mocked for being ‘late bloomers’, how their partners would see them as less of a person if they didn’t know what they were doing. At that point in time, she had been thankful that her then-boyfriend was okay with it all. He was a virgin too. Even though they had broken up amicably when she went to the academy, a part of Yaz was thankful for him. Except, she had never found anyone else after then. While she knew she was attracted to women too, something about it all was a terrifying, almost taboo prospect for her. There she had gone, into the bed of someone who clearly knew their way around. It was making her more than self conscious.

“Yaz, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can stop here, and-”

“No!”

Even she was surprised at the urgency of her own voice. Yaz recoiled slightly, feeling her face burning up as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“No...I do want to...it’s just. I don’t, I don’t really know what to do. The world doesn’t really prepare you for this kind of thing, like it does with men.”

When she opened her eyes again, the Doctor was still smiling at her, thumb moving back and forth over her cheek. Really, she was surprised she had managed to strip the Doctor down to her underwear. She was still in her sweatpants, but her shirt had gone somewhere else. Taking her hand away, the Doctor instead took hold of one of Yaz’s hands and looked down at it before turning her attention back to her.

“I can show you. If you want. I don’t exactly know much about this particular body, but it shouldn’t be too far out of my knowledge. It’s just having it done to me, rather than the other way around. We can learn together. Would that help?”

Yaz took a moment to think it over. It felt stupid to need to be taught by the Doctor. Although, it did sound like the best option. There was something deeply intimate about the offer as well, something she just couldn’t seem to look past.

“Okay.”

The Doctor nodded, slotting her hand over Yaz’s and moving it towards her body. She started slow, guiding Yaz’s fingers to brush over her neck. There wasn’t much time for her to contemplate the double pulse she felt, before Yaz found herself trialing over the Doctor’s shoulder and down to her collarbones. Her skin was incredibly soft, delightfully so, and Yaz was surprised at how quickly the Doctor closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. Aside from the softness, it was still an odd sensation to be guided around the Doctor’s body. Though her touch was gentle and slow, Yaz started to wonder what it would have been like to do it herself. Still, it was thrilling in it’s own way, especially as she felt her hand being moved lower. The Doctor paused their shared journey across her hearts, and Yaz couldn’t help but gasp a little as she finally felt both of them in tandem.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

Yaz stilled, eyes focused intently on where her hand lay. The Doctor was right, it was more than she expected. While the Time Lord looked very human, Yaz was reminded then that she was anything but human, despite her appearance. She was alien, nothing like her, something entirely new potentially.

“It’s amazing...you’re amazing, Doctor.”

Leaning closer, Yaz kissed the Doctor slowly and with more caution than before, taking her time to savour the moment as it was. She felt a smile - they both did - and when Yaz pulled back she looked down at their conjoined hands and felt emboldened. Without any external encouragement, Yaz started to move her hand again. She travelled down between the Doctor’s breasts, over the cotton of her sports bra, and down to her stomach. Much like the rest of the Doctor, it was incredibly soft and she couldn’t help but smile at the way the Time Lord twitched and twisted against her fingers. Her fingers moved over her hip bone, drawing a line back up across her side and dancing over her ribs. Although, she paused again, dark eyes turning up to look into hazel-green, almost non-verbally asking for permission to continue. While Yaz had indeed had sexual encounters before, she knew nothing of the female body - nor her own, having never touched herself in all her years - and something about going further made the nerves come back.

“It’s okay, Yaz. Let me. You’re doing great.”

The Doctor took control back, easing Yaz’s hand back up the front of her sports bra. From there, she paused, possibly debating what avenue to take, before coaxing Yaz towards her left breast. Again, she paused and allowed her to acclimatise to the sensation. Mostly it was cotton, but there was also warmth and weight to the touch. She could make out the faint line of the Doctor’s breast, how it pushed against the fabric. Yaz could also feel a hint of pebbling under her fingers, suspicions confirmed as a gentle urge to squeeze made the Doctor gasp slightly.

“That’s...definitely new.”

“New bad, or…?”

“Good. New good. Really good, actually.”

That made Yaz feel better, at least. A sense of pride that despite her shortcomings, the Doctor was at least enjoying herself. Truth be told, she was too, and Yaz almost instantly started to wonder what the Doctor felt like without a bra.


	2. Week Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collection of prompts involving the thirteenth doctor x the corsair and thirteenth doctor x yasmin khan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Kisses:** Teen, thorsair  
>  **Heat:** Explicit, thorsair (for multifanwho)  
>  **Not Here:** Explicit, thorsair  
>  **Hair Pulling:** Mature, thorsair  
>  **Climax:** Explicit, thorsair  
>  **Biting:** Mature, thorsair  
>  **Teeth & Claws:** Explicit, thasmin (vampire AU)

7 - Kisses

Time with the Corsair was fleeting at best, the Doctor knew this. Their paths tended to only cross in the dead of night, under the heady cloud of alcohol and with a glint of mischief. They had woken up in jails, in bank vaults, and even a cage at one point. Yet the Doctor would never trade any of their time with them for the world. Though nothing had ever been spoken - it never needed to be - something of a flame was held between the Doctor and the Corsair. Two sides of the same dice, always meeting at the most random of times, but always leaving on a high. This time though, the Doctor actively sought the Corsair out, followed her signal through the deepest reaches of space and time. She crossed several galaxies to find the impressive galleon moured down on some backwater desert planet, locked down in the only water source for thousands of clicks. Like all their encounters, it started in a bar in the dead of night. Except this time, the Doctor was not planning on getting inebriated. Or, that was her plan at least. Needless to say, like all their encounters, the original plan fell through rather quickly.

Several empty tankards sat between them, along with a clouded blue bottle made from thick crystal. The Corsair pushed it up to her lips, taking a long swig of the golden liquid inside and heaving a sigh, before sliding it across the sticky table towards the Doctor. Numbed fingers barely managed to keep it stable, a loose smile spreading wide across her face as her head lolled comically from side to side. The Doctor had no recollection of what planet she was on now, nor where she had left the TARDIS. Though it certainly didn’t matter either way. Not when she was down several strong ales and half a bottle of concentrated ginger wine. She took the last dregs of ambrosia down with ease, near slamming the bottle down on the table with a withheld laugh that was echoed by the Corsair. Gone were the reasons for her visit, all she was left with was the wild buzz of hedonism and fulfilled pleasures. Though, something started to tickle the back of the Doctor’s brain. In the dim candlelight of the tavern, flames flickering shadows that danced across the wall, an unusual thought struck her.

The Corsair was beautiful.Not that they had ever not been attractive - strapping, had they said? - but something was definitely more pronounced. Was it the regeneration they were both on? Who knew. The Doctor certainly didn’t. But whatever the cause for the wavering thought was, it stuck around even as they stumbled free of the establishment and into the open air. A cool breeze shocked the Doctor to her core, a shiver running through her, despite her layers. The Corsair was completely unphased, going so far as to loosen the already open collar of her shirt further and chuckle quietly to herself. Maybe it was a ploy for attention, or maybe the Doctor was drunkenly reading too far into the situation, but whatever it was did not stop them from staring. Glazed hazel-green eyes ran up and down over the Corsair as she admired the scenery. She was strong, toned, curved and pretty much everything the Doctor admired. Her dark hair billowed in the breeze, framing the sharp lines of her jaw and neck, a contrast to blinding silver eyes and tanned skin.

“Doctor?”

She could pick up a familiar scent of tea and oil, but mingled in was the clear hit of salt and dust. Space and time seemed to cling to the Corsair, heightening everything about her. The Doctor was so far gone in her mindless appreciation, she barely noticed the other Time Lord move to stand in front of her and wave in front of her face.

"Doctor? Hello?"

Despite all the alcohol they had drank, the Corsair sounded completely normal.  She could smell the familiar scent of oil and tea, although it was mixed together with a new hit of salt and dust. The Corsair seemed to attract the essence of space and time itself, swirling around her into a strangely intoxicating mix. So far gone into her mindless appreciation was the Doctor, that she barely noticed the other Time Lord moving towards her and slowly waving a hand back and forth in front of her face.

“Doctor? Hello?”

Startling, the Doctor jumped back a step, hairs standing on end as twin hearts pounded hard in her chest. While the Corsair had drunk the same quantity as her, her voice was still relatively the same. Deep and sultry and smooth, with only a hint of a waver and drawl of vowels. The Doctor, meanwhile, took almost a minute of silence before she felt even remotely capable of stringing together some words, praying to all the heavens that she didn’t mess up the order of presentation.

“Mmmm. S’up? W’cha say?”

All she could do was top her words off with a wide, beaming grin, pale cheeks alight a deep crimson as the ginger beer and ale continued to rush through her veins and process at a delayed rate. The Corsair dropped her hand, resting the other on her hip as she shook her head slow with a sigh. Still, she was smiling too, and that was really all the Doctor was concentrating on. The way her cheek bones popped and the faintest lines of a dimple appeared on the left side. How her teeth glittered like stardust in the flickering streetlights, her eyes shining like a burning gas giant itself. Everything about the Corsair was designed to be inviting – vanity was and always had been part of their nature – and for some reason, the Doctor couldn’t help but appreciate everything about her this time around. The sensations of tugs and pushes towards the other Time Lord were far stronger than she had ever experienced in other regenerations. Something was drawing her back in, the Doctor taking steps back into the Corsair’s personal space. She wanted to trail her fingers through her hair, hold her hand, she wanted to-

“Are you heading back to your TARDIS for the evening? You should be getting back to your humans, no?

Hazel-green eyes, darkened from dilated pupils, focused only on the movement of the Corsair’s lips, not a single scrap of her brain taking note of the words she spoke aside from ‘getting back’. The Doctor shook her head, hands pushing her coat aside to rest on her hips.

“Naaaaah. They’s gonna be fine. S’not like ‘m gonna be late. Time m’chine. S’brilliant. I jus’…um…”

She couldn’t help but pause, a brief moment of panic setting in as she watched the Corsair raise her eyebrows. Was she judging her? What had she done? Had she said something wrong? A thousand questions started pouring through the Doctor’s mind – none of them making any true sense when mixed with alcohol – and she all but froze up as the Corsair cut through the small distance between them and raised the back of her hand to the curve of her brow.

“You just?”

The Doctor looked down at the floor for a moment, eyes trailing over the shingles and cobbles, before looking back up. She pressed up on her toes slightly, watching as the Corsair seemed to study her as she babbled muttered words over her lips. Words she barely even wanted to say, but chanced under inebriation, drawing ever closer until she was so close to the Corsair’s face. The Doctor set herself up for failure, a rebuffle, but instead she felt soft and warm lips pressing against her own almost instantly. The Corsair was so much more than she had ever expected, gasping into the repetitive series of chaste kisses as she felt a hand snake around her waist underneath her coat. The Corsair pulled her closer, urged her further up onto her toes so they were level, taking drop after drop of the desperate Time Lord’s lips until the hand against her forehead twisted into thick blonde curls and tilted her head back just enough so the Corsair could bite into her lips and seal the unspoken deal.

_ ‘TARDIS.’ _

_ ‘Please…’ _

* * *

8 - Heat

She couldn’t ever remember a feeling like this, not in any of her regenerations. Perhaps she had just blocked all instances of the occurrence from her mind. Perhaps she had just legitimately forgotten. Either way, it was a combination of the most awful and the most amazing thing all in one, and the Doctor was struggling to make any sense out of the world she knew around her. If only because she was entirely distracted by the feeling of hair tickling her thighs and a tongue drawing all attention.

“When you said you were desperate, I did not expect this.”

If it weren’t for the many kinds of uncomfortably burning she was feeling, the Doctor would have reached down and smacked the Corsair over the head. Then again, she was doing some absolutely spectacular things in between talking, and no part of her could move. Save for the rhythmic bucking of her hips as she chased every ounce of electric contact she could get. However, despite the wave upon wave of pleasure that the rogue Time Lord was providing her, the Doctor needed more. Much more. She ached and whined and was on the cusp of begging for it. If the main event were just the Corsair practically devouring her, then the Doctor would have no need to complain. Except something else was creating an endless tension in the room, and it was driving her more insane than the burning heat was. She twisted and groaned as the Corsair teased her tongue through her folds, moving slower now than she had been before, fingers knotting further into the sheets as she felt the end creeping in.

“This is not what you need though, is it Doctor? No, there is something you are practically aching for. I can feel it. In fact, I can hear it. You are already vocal, but your mind is working overtime inside mine. You really cannot keep quiet, can you? Such a filthy mind you have up there.”

The Doctor’s hips instinctively keened again, but found no contact there. Eyes opened and looked down to see the Corsair propped up on one elbow, lips and chin slick with her arousal, one finger idly drawing patterns against a line of bruises marking the inside of her right thigh. There was a twinge of pain across each mark that made her legs tremble, but the Doctor ignored the sensation in favour of whining again. She knew exactly what the Corsair was playing at. One part of her wanted to stay strong, not fall prey to her charms. Not like she already had, the Doctor had been the one banging on the door of her TARDIS in a complete state. She hated how desperate and needy and submissive a heat cycle made her. Then again, the Corsair had been a blessing. Taking every precaution, constantly checking in and making sure she really did want this and wasn’t running on just hormones. The Doctor liked to think she was completely rational in her decision to want to be fucked to the heavens and back again.

It wasn’t going to kill her. It wasn’t something she didn’t want. She had been intimate with the Corsair before in previous regenerations, if not under the same circumstances.

“I can hear you thinking still. Unless you tell me what you want, Doctor, you are not going to get it. I made it clear some hour ago that only good little pets get the release they want.”

“Ugh...gods...please...please…”

“Please what, Doctor?”

The Corsair’s hand stilled against her though, forcing the Doctor up onto her own elbows. Blonde hair stuck to her cheeks from sweat, eyes blown wide as they travelled up and down the toned expanse of olive skin in front of her.

“Don‘t make me say it. You can literally read my mind and hear how loudly I want it.”

With a wry smile on her face, the Corsair moved back away from the Doctor, briefly reclining back on her legs as she watched the Doctor’s head fall back and heard her groan in exasperation. While it was true that she could hear so much desperation leaking out from the other Time Lord’s mind, it gave her an innate thrill to be holding onto so much power. It had been worked into their agreement of consent that the Doctor would only get what she explicitly asked for. Clearly, this was a little too much for her to handle.

“Look. If you cannot say so, then that is fine. I am more than happy to provide service in other w-”

“NO!”

The urgency of the Doctor’s voice shattered the underlying tension in the room, surprising the Corsair for a moment. She tilted her head slightly to the side and questioningly stared at the Doctor, watching her chest rise and fall at a rapid rate.

“N-no. I mean...I...Please...please, I really really need you. Please Corsair. Please just...just…”

_ ‘Gods, just fuck me. I need you to fuck me. You put the harness on for me and I am begging you right now to fuck the absolute daylights out of me. Please! Please, please, please please. ’ _

Rolling her eyes playfully, the Corsair dropped her hands on the floor briefly to help her stand upright. The Doctor bit down on her lip as she stood, eyes drawn instantly to the black straps wrapped around her hips and thighs, following the sharp lines until she found herself captivated by the object that lay between the Corsair's legs. While the toy itself was nothing completely out of the Doctor's comfort zone - gently curving silicone with played ridges and bumps across the top and bottom of the shaft - just seeing it was enough to make her arousal spike. She watched, mouth agape, as the Corsair paced to the side of the bed and reached into the drawer of a bedside cabinet. Bottle in hand, she coated her free palm in lube, sliding it up and down across the shaft several times. She couldn't help but chuckle a little as the Doctor whined, soon taking her place back at the foot of the bed with her dry hand on her hip.

"Judging by the way you are bombarding me mentally right now, I am guessing that this is what you want, Doctor?"

The Doctor swallowed dryly, nodding slow as her eyes remained practically affixed to the Corsair's red and gold swirled faux-member.

"P-please...I need to feel it. I need to feel y-you."

Still having some lube on her hand, the Corsair urged the Doctor further down to the edge of the bed, smiling knowingly as she dragged one of the pillows along with her and tucked it under her hips. Reaching down, slick fingers worked the Doctor over again, making sure she was entirely ready to take what she had on offer, sliding her fingers inside and deducing everything was quite as it should be. The Doctor almost instantly mewled as the contact went away again, hips shuddering as her head fell back onto the bed and she heaved a shaking breath. One hand stilled against the Doctor's inner thigh, the Corsair used the other to direct the slender tip of the toy up and down through the Doctor's labia, groaning softly in time with the other Time Lord. God's, some part of her missed being able to feel it, though the Doctor was mentally vocal enough to cover the lack of physical sensation.

"Are you ready?"

"Gods yes."

* * *

9 - "Not here"

“Ah! N-not here.”

“Why not, hmm? Only a minute ago you were dragging me in here by the collar of my shirt, Doctor.”

The Corsair hummed against her neck, hands slowly untucking twin shirts and making their way up towards her braces. The Doctor had lost her coat the second she had tumbled into the TARDIS with the rogue in tow, both locked at the lips as a playful fight broke out for dominance of the situation. Sure, the Corsair had moved first - she was always the faster of the two - but the Doctor was damned if she wasn’t going to take charge. Just once. Although, that had quickly gone awry as the Corsair began to easily undress her without a second thought. Then again, what the Doctor wore was hardly considered sex-appropriate, compared to the Corsair who was all loose sleeves and tight pants that seemed to vanish far too easily most of the time. Still, that was entirely far from the point, and the Doctor was much too distracted at the lips on her neck.

“Because - ah! - the TARDIS, she-”

She could practically feel the Corsair rolling her eyes as she tugged mustard braces down to her hips and so easily tugged both shirts away from her body. The Doctor felt her bare back pressing against the consoles, the tip of a switch brushing against her spine as she was urged back by hungry lips leaving blistering trails of fire in their wake. Teeth tugged at her skin and she hissed in response, unsure hands scrambling at the metal behind her before finally clinging hard onto the Corsair’s hips and all sense of composure failing as a knee slotted in between her own legs.

“Oh, Doctor, I am sure she has seen far worse in her lifetime. Have I been forcibly ejected? No. Quite frankly, if she is anything like you, I would say she’s a little...voyeuristic.”

While the Doctor had expected an almost instant fuss from her ship - the Corsair was right, why haven't they been booted out yet - nothing had happened. Not an alarm. Not a shudder. Not a mental barrage of kittens and puppies and other cute or mindless things to ruin the mood. Nothing at all. Again, not like the Doctor would complain, or could, especially not as the Corsair’s hands worked under her sports bra and massaged her breasts and rolled thumbs over her nipples. Gods, what was even happening? It was impossible to comprehend, all the Doctor could do was gasp and groan as the Corsair’s teeth dragged over her pulse and made her practically melt on the spot. She was a quivering mess, all quakes and groans and breathy sighs as the Corsair’s lips moved lower and lower, dancing over her collarbones and down her sternum.

“I’m not a voyeur. And n-neither is my ship.”

Tilting her knee upwards, the Corsair hummed as the Doctor moaned and gripped her hips tighter. She broke the line of kisses and let her lips instead hover beside the Doctor’s ear as one hand moved down her stomach.

“Really? So, you do not find the idea of someone watching you fall apart, thrilling?”

Her words were low and husky, ghosting over the Doctor’s skin as she held back the depraved groan as the Corsair moved past her trousers and idly toyed with the waistband of her boxers.

“You do not think that it would be...exciting, for someone to walk in on us, right now?”

“N-no, I- oh _stars_.”

Fingers effortlessly glided through the Doctor’s slick folds, the Corsair doing nothing but tutting slowly into her ear as she slowly started to circle a thumb over her clit.

“Doctor. My dear. Your body says otherwise. You are so wet at just the thought of being caught like this, trapped underneath me, dazed and bedraggled.”

“Sh-shut...shut up…”

Lips latched onto the side of her neck again as the Corsair started to work some kind of magic to the Doctor’s body. She could do nothing more than lean her head to the side as she panted heavily, hips bucking and twitching against each touch, a scratchy not-scream tearing out of her throat as two fingers started to push inside her and the Corsair bit down on her neck again. So much was happening at once, so many senses overloading in one go, her brain struggling to find something to pay attention to. Fire and electricity and the touch of heaven itself coursed through her body and set everything alight in the most dangerous of ways. Fingers dug hard into the Corsair’s hips, making her hiss against her neck as she left another mark further down. Oh, she was going to have a hard time explaining why she was wearing a scarf in the height of summer back on Earth, she could feel it.

Though that wasn’t the most important thing.

She needed freedom from the confines of her trousers, freedom to feel the Corsair more than she already was. Sure, she was a devil with quick fingers and a roaming mouth but it was just driving her closer to a bring she was never going to reach otherwise. Shifting her head back and nudging it against the Corsair’s own, the Doctor could barely speak between sharp and shallow breaths of air.

“M-more...please…”

“Oh, gladly Doctor.”

It was almost criminal how empty the Doctor felt as the Corsair pulled away from her. Then again, she knew exactly where everything was going, hands instinctively shifting to hold onto the underside of the console as the Corsair tugged down her trousers and pants to her knees. It was hard to shift her knees apart, still being restrained, but really, that made it all the sweeter when the Doctor’s head rolled back and she groaned as the Corsair kissed her way up the inside of her thighs. The first testing stroke of her tongue almost made her lose balance then and there, but sturdy hands kept a firm grip of her as the Corsair continued upwards to brush teasingly over her clit again.

“Maybe next time we do this, it should be on the deck of my TARDIS. I would love to hear your moans on the breeze.”

If she could survive this, the Doctor thought, then maybe there would be a chance she would entertain such an idea in the future. Until then, she was more than happy to be ravished against her own console, babbling out words in a language long since forgotten by time itself.

* * *

10 - Hair Pulling

It didn’t matter how many times the Doctor tried to take charge, she was no match for the Corsair’s dulcet tones and smooth words. Though, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She trusted the Corsair to take care of her. She trusted her to make sure she was safe, and enjoyed every moment of their time together. The times when the Doctor took control were breathtaking, though rare, and honestly that was more the way she liked it. So many other regenerations had come and gone where she - he - had practically leapt at the chance to be the one on top. The one giving out the pleasure first. The one with all the knowledge, the know-how, the commanding aura. It was just part of who they had been for so long. The shift to being on the receiving end, a submissive and whiny personality, had thrown the Doctor for a while. Oh sure, she wanted a fight as much as she always had. She was bratty, talked back, and projected her power trip out. Though there was a new thrill in being told to stand down. Made to. Having that power stripped away from her was one of the best experiences. And the Corsair knew how to deliver just that.

That was why she loved her so.

It had never truly come up in conversation, though most things never did with them. They had come to an arrangement that words were not strictly necessary, so long of them both communicated through other means instead. Always. The Doctor might have found herself weak at being submissive to the wills of another person, but her words always failed her. She was awkward, terribly so, and despite having ideas of the things that she wanted to do and experience, they never quite came out right. Sometimes, the Corsair had discovered things she had never thought of before. Apparently, she would do anything for a bit of praise. Other times it was a bit more literal. Like breath play. Coming to realise she had a thing for her hair being played with was purely chance.

So was coming to the almost panic-inducing realisation that it could lead to something much more exciting. The day when the Corsair had run her fingers a little too harshly through her hair had almost instantly flipped a dormant switch inside the Doctor’s head. No part of her at all had registered the transition from open eyes and contented hums, to a low gasp and eyes slowly closing. But the moment it did register, she had been almost mortified. The Corsair, however, had taken it completely in her stride. They had joked about it afterwards - for at least a week, if she remembered right - but it was never really brought up again. Which, the Doctor was thankful for, as there was no way she would ever be able to find the words to ask for her to be harder next time. If there ever was a next time. A next time that thankfully did come, and the Doctor completely rolled with it like it was second nature. Of course the Corsair hadn’t forgotten about it, her memory for details like that was impeccable, and the Doctor found herself weakening almost instantly as she felt slender fingers rest against her head.

“You really are into your hair being played with, Doctor. I find it rather cute.”

The Doctor mumbled in content at the comment, eyes already closing as she pushed her head up into the hand against her. The Corsair smiled softly, gently stroking through golden blonde hair and teasing her nails against her scalp. They stayed like that for a moment, in silence, before the Doctor’s eyes sharply opened at a change in pressure. Her head was yanked upright, not painfully so by any means, just with some authoritative force. Wide eyes stared up at the Corsair, as her expression changed from a tender love to a sly and devious play. As her head was tilted back, nails drawing shallow lines across her scalp as fingers knotted into the roots of her hair, the Doctor couldn’t help but whine as the Corsair drew closer.

“Though I think that, tonight at least, cute may have to wait. I am feeling a certain kind of way, Doctor and I do hope that you will be a good girl and give me a...hand, as it were.”

With those words, and control so readily stripped away from her, the Doctor was at the complete mercy of the Corsair. She kissed her with such fever - rampant hunger, almost - that the Doctor was thankful that breathing wasn’t a necessity. Sure, there was a clash of teeth and a quick pain in her lips, but it was all worth it. With a strong hand keeping her stable, the Doctor could do little more than melt around the Corsair, gladly parting the way so that she could pass her tongue over her teeth and effortlessly dominate her mouth. Each time they would part, the Corsair would tug at her hair a little more, coaxing out a plethora of sounds from the Doctor’s quickly rasping vocal chords. With her free hand, the rogue Time Lord wrapped herself around the Doctor’s waist, urging her to tumble back into the sheets and pillows underneath them. Although it meant the loss of pressure against her scalp, as the Corsair’s hands started to roam freely over her, the Doctor knew it wouldn’t be long before she was being directed elsewhere. She could hear it, rattling around inside the rogue’s head, of just where she wanted to keep the Doctor’s mouth.

Just hearing the thought alone made her twist and turn underneath the sweeping curves of the Corsair, keening into every touch that seemed to seer into her skin and leave invisible traces of the Time Lord into every crook and crevice. Haphazard kisses shifted from her lips to move over her jaw, teeth nipping at a small patch of skin underneath her earlobe, before the Corsair continued south. The Doctor couldn’t help but hold onto her for stability, one arm sliding up to her shoulder while another clung desperately to dark curled tresses. As a pressure started to bubble inside her, the Doctor instinctively gripped harder, freezing a mere few seconds later as she felt the Corsair groan against her neck. The pause seemed to stretch on for an eternity, until the Doctor managed to shift around the bed just enough to find the Corsair’s face now buried in one of the navy pillows.

“Did...did you just…?”

“I…”

One. Two. Three more moments moved by, and finally, the Doctor broke the silence by snickering. She tried to keep it silent, though judging by the jab at her ribs, she was failing miserably. But how could she not laugh? Apparently she wasn’t the only one with a thing for their hair being pulled.

* * *

11 - Climax

She had travelled through all the known galaxies. She had explored vast, dangerous planets. She had sailed violent seas, through unyielding dust storms, on the waves of a supernova and across the void of a black hole. She had indulged in the many hedonistic delights of life. Sampled the finest drinks across the cosmos. Broken many bones - none of them her own, thankfully - and the reputations of some of the most dangerous people in the universe. She had stolen an unparalleled amount of goods, made fortunes far and wide, a name for herself. Though her name could never truly live up to those who still came before her, those who excelled more at the extreme ends of the moral spectrum. While she danced around in the endless grey, one fell into the dark and the other blinded by light. Neither were truly deep into their ends of morals, and yet she had the greater range. Her name had caused so many to fall for her, a great deal more to fall into her bed. She, and he, had been around the cosmos for so long, that it was almost impossible to get any kind of a thrill anymore. She was always chasing a little more, a little harder, following each lead through time and space and begging for the next big hit to give her some meaning. Anything. Anything to break through the void that seemed to follow her always. While she had never considered herself one for companionship, extras always were a problem and never a boon, a small part of her clung to the idea that perhaps there truly was more out there for her.

Though, in retrospect, nothing at all in all of space and time mattered to her in that moment.

A chance crossing of the timestreams had led her back to the Doctor, and not for the first time either. Somehow they had been crashing together more and more frequently, and the strain on time itself wracked her bones. Yet she didn’t care, and seemingly neither did the Doctor. Sure, she could see infinite age in her eyes, an age she had never truly known herself. It was clear they were disordered, fractured, not meeting in any order that they were supposed to. Though, neither care. Time continued to rupture around them and all it did was seem to stoke the growing fire that blazed between them. Everything between them centered on emotions. Good, bad, everything in between. Somehow the universe dragged them together for all occasions, and solace was what they found in each other. A strange kind of companionship, bedfellows of the same origin but completely different across the board. The Corsair was wild, untamed, full of an unbridled desire to experience everything. The Doctor was calculated, reserved, and yet somehow. Somehow. The Corsair had managed to break her. Not in the kind of way she had ever anticipated. If anything, the day the Doctor pushed her against a wall and kissed the living daylights out of her was a surprise, and she figured it was a one-time thing. A desire the Doctor could not explore anywhere else.

She was safe with the Corsair - always had been - and she indulged the explosive array of fireworks between them for a night.

Though, it never stayed at that one time.

No, things progressed at a rapid pace. Though, perhaps it was just the sense of time that Time Lords kept. There was no end, so there was no need to drag things out. Everything had a point, and even if it came down to her just being used as an outside source of relief, the Corsair was selfish in her own ways. She dragged every bit of desire out of the Doctor, found all of her weaknesses, broke her down into her base components and let her explore the darker reaches of her own wants and needs. She took and gave in equal measure, but in the moment she found herself in, barely able to comprehend any scrap of space or time or sense of matter, the Corsair was unraveling. Every sense was overloaded by wave after wave of burning pleasure, reaching a breaking point she couldn’t even keep track of. The Doctor had completely overwhelmed her, taken everything in her own hands, and was driving her into a blackout. She could hear the sound of her breathing in her ear, felt her teeth grazing against her shoulder, felt her own arousal and lube trickling down her thighs as the Doctor pressed deeper and deeper inside her with the toy attached to her hips. She could feel one hand keeping her steady, breasts pressed into her back as the Corsair breathed roughly into the pillow, teeth digging into the fabric as she mentally cursed the Doctor out for being so good. Slender fingers drew short and sharp circles over her clit, further accentuating the many levels of pleasure the Corsair was experiencing. It was so much, so much in one go, her grip on the world around her was fading. Heat and electricity and a deep coil twisted tighter and tighter in her gut, voice rising higher and higher and higher still until-

_ Snap _

All the tension, all the pressure and build up and close heat in her body, everything unwound and uncoiled and unravelled at an alarming rate. The Corsair’s body grew taut as her back arched, face buried deep into the pillows as she felt every muscle in her body turn to stone and jelly at the same time. A heady rush of endorphins and adrenaline pulsed through her veins, crashing loudly in her ears as she bit back a scream into feathers and cotton. She could feel the Doctor clinging onto her, holding her close as her body started to tremble and shake. Fingers stilled, so did hips, and the Corsair could barely register the fact she was still filled so deep while the orgasm broke through her body relentlessly. The ringing in her ears was at war with the soothing coos of the Doctor as she slowly removed her fingers from between her legs and gently caressed her hips and shoulders. As she felt the toy leave her, the Corsair dropped down onto the mattress, spent and weary, finally releasing the breath that had been burning her lungs. At no point did she recall the Doctor leaving to remove her harness, nor wash her hands, nor come back to the bed and drape her body over her once more. She continued to stroke her, from the top of her head to the base of her spine, and back up again.

Time lost all meaning. She couldn’t even feel the fractures anymore. Couldn’t feel the push or the pull or the strain of the universe telling her she shouldn't be there.  It didn’t matter at all. Eventually, she managed to turn her head around, barely rolling her eyes as the Doctor shifted a swathe of dark hair from her eyes. The loopy, dopey grin - a measure of how successful the Doctor thought she had been - was all she could see, and she couldn’t help but return it in kind.

* * *

12 - Biting

“How do you feel about being marked, Doctor?”

It took a few seconds for the question to register, the Doctor looking up from her console to stare at the Corsair as she leant up against one of the columns. Somehow, the rogue had managed to lose her TARDIS - again - and all the Doctor wanted to do was drop her off before heading back to Earth to pick up her companions. She couldn’t quite work out where the Corsair was heading with her line of questioning, ten different answers all knitting together inside her brain and making quite the mess with regards to a cohesive answer. Letting go of one of the dials, the Doctor let both hands rest on her hips as she eyed up the Corsair.

“What’d’ya mean by...marked? ‘Cause I can think of about five different definitions of that word right now.”

With a swing in her step, the Corsair strode over, though continued to keep moving and urged a wide-eyed Doctor backwards until she collided with the opposite column. Hazel-green eyes looked up, arms dropping to her side as the Doctor felt a familiar flicker of something in the air. The Corsair was playing something, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Then again, she really was one for cat and mouse.

“What I mean, Doctor, is do you take pride in showing off that someone has...been close to you, or are you still the silent type?”

“That really doesn’t narrow down my list of op-”

The Doctor was quickly cut off by a sudden kiss, both of the Corsair’s hands on her cheeks and holding firm. She could feel teeth teasing her lower lip, gently tugging briefly and dragging out a low groan from the Doctor. Fingers balled into fists on the inside of her coat, pressing against the crystalline structures through the fabric as she all but melted into the Corsair’s touch. There was something so uniquely satisfying about the times the rogue just went ahead and instigated something in such a brazen and forthright way. Mostly because the Doctor allowed it openly, and the thrill of the surprise almost never failed to get her onboard. While she expected a deeper kiss - if the hold to her face was anything to go by - she was caught somewhat off guard as the hands moved to brace against her shoulders.  The Corsair then shifted her attention across the Doctor’s jaw, chuckling softly as she felt her tilt her head to the side almost as if on command. While she had been on an intimate arrangement with the Doctor before, the Corsair had always been more...straight to the point about things. Foreplay was not her strongest of suits, and left that in the capable hands of the Time Lord currently mewling underneath her. Yet there was a little part of her that was curious about something.

“Let me show you what I mean, Doctor. Lead by example.”

Whispering into the Doctor’s ear, the Corsair shifted to lay kisses down the slope of her neck. She could feel the rapid pulse fluttering a heavy rhythm underneath her, and smiled softly into pale skin. As she moved back up, she paused for a moment, laying a particularly deep and tender kiss to just the spot. The Doctor whined softly, one shaking hand making its way around the Corsair’s waist and pulling her in closer. It was all the encouragement she needed to test the waters. Slowly, the Corsair pulled back a little way, gently parting her lips to run her tongue across a small patch of skin. The Doctor was more than receptive, fingers digging into her shoulders as she gasped and even let her head fall a little more to the side. With the playing field wide open, the Corsair moved again. Teeth grazed over her pulsepoint, a delicate touch, waiting to hear a call to stop. Instead, she caught wind of a hitch in the Doctor’s voice, and slowly started to apply pressure. Every part of the Corsair was on high alert, a mix of fear and adrenaline rushing through her brain as she feared the worst outcome. Really, she had been gentle with the Doctor, fearing for doing anything other than being a fast mover, fearing the rejection and a break in their bond. Despite all clear consent on the table at all times.

“H-harder.”

Evidently, she needn’t have worried about any of that. Closing her eyes, she added more pressure to the bite, closing her lips around the skin and tugging. She could taste sweat, feel the heady rush of blood underneath, found herself absorbed in the moment as the Doctor whined and clung tighter still. By the time she pulled away, a red-purple mark was starting to bloom on the Doctor’s neck, and she pressed several soft kisses to the tender skin.

“O-oh...you meant...Um. Y-you can do that again.”

“Did we just discover a new kink of yours’ Doctor? Oh, I can work with this.”

That she could. The Corsair bit down on an area of skin just lower down, mindful to only take hold of skin and fat, rather than burying deep down into muscle tissue. She stayed around the same level of pressure for a moment, before testing the waters once more. She pushed again, waited until there was a clear hiss and a brief strain of attempted words before laying off. Finding the ‘biting point’ was exactly what she was hoping of, cataloguing it alongside many of the other little quirks she had discovered about the Doctor.  So, she set to work, biting again and again over soft white skin. Down the left side of her neck, across to the front of her throat, wrapping around to the right side as well. The Corsair even managed to get a sly look-in at a hint of shoulder, before deducing that her work was done. For the moment. Butterfly kisses covered all the deep bruises and red marks, soothing tender skin and remaining grooves from her teeth, before she kissed her way back up to the Doctor’s mouth and took her tenderly. When she eventually pulled away, there was a dark shadow falling over the Doctor’s eyes, and a deep crimson blush on her cheeks. She was breathing heavy, staring directly at her, hands still knotted into the loose fabric of her shirt.

“You look good with some bite to you, Doctor. I rather like this desperate look of yours. Now everyone will know just who you are entangled with.”

“How about we...entangle...back inside? You need to finish what you’ve started, Corsair. Or, I’ll finish it for you.”

Threat hung low in the air, filling the room with a crackle of tension that only made the rogue break out into a knowing smile. Oh, it was going to be a fun trip to get back to her ship.

* * *

13 - Teeth & Claws

While the Doctor had never truly been afraid of ever getting close to Yaz - save her entire reservations about how squishy and fragile humans were as a general rule of thumb - things had certainly ramped up to new levels entirely once she had managed to track her down again. There was no longer this fear inside her, consuming every single moment of her days. She didn’t fear for accidentally kissing her too hard, or being too forceful with her touch. She didn’t fear the fact that Yaz could die in her arms so very easily, like others had done before her. If anything, there was a brand new fear that seemed to make her hair stand on end, and fill her with a strange thrill. It was dangerous, forbidden almost, and yet the Doctor was absolutely thriving under the circumstances. The same could not, or would not, be said for their surroundings, but that was nowhere near the forefront of her mind. The only thing she could feel was the faint trickle of toxins running through empty veins as sharp fangs pierced through marbled skin. It was nothing like her memories, there was no excruciating pain nor overwhelming sensation of humanity forcing its way into a body it had never existed for. No, far from it. It felt like the touch of ice and fire, melding together, and it drove her wild.

“Oh, fuck, Yaz…”

There was a sharp huff of air against her ear, a roughening tongue washing over the small area of petrification that marred milk white skin. She could feel claws sinking into her shoulders as Yaz shifted further down her neck and growled, the noise vibrating her chest and reverberating around the room. In her hundreds of years, she never quite expected to be getting wild and dirty with a werewolf. If she wasn't seducing her human prey - something she had quickly found moral pause in - she had been with other vampires. She had wanted Yaz for months, ever since the day she had first tasted her sweet blood. But she had remained strong, held out, and her nirvana awaited for her deeds. Yaz contained to kiss every inch of bare skin she could find, scrambling to tear though the open shirt that still clung to the Doctor's body. Ribbons of white cotton scattered across the room, joining the threaded pile of clothes she had already freed herself from earlier. The lure of the moon was strong, tempting Yaz further and further into her shift, an overwhelming desire to ravage the Doctor screaming in her ears. As claws raked up the sides of the vampire's lithe body, drawing out a high pitched cry of delight, hands shifted to grab hold of both wrists and firmly hold them above the Doctor's head before golden eyes stared down into deep crimson.

"I didn't take you for a masochist. Are you sure I'm not hurting you too much? I'm not exactly used to...this...yet."

It took a moment for the Doctor to recognise Yaz’s voice. It had shifted down at least half an octave, low and husky and spoken between elongated canines. If she had blood in her veins, she hastened to guess that her heart would be leaping into her throat. Fear and arousal mixed together inside her brain, fogging everything into a deeply pleasant haze. Craning her neck up, she brushed her nose against Yaz’s smiling before placing two kisses against her cheek. The brief moment of tenderness was just perfect for the both of them.

“Sweetheart, I could quite easily throw you aside if I weren’t enjoying this. You’re doing great, I promise. If things get too much, I can look after myself. And you. So please..please keep going. If I could, I’d be burning up. Nothing has ever felt this good before.”

With the grip around her wrists tightening, the Doctor let herself be consumed by the kiss that followed. Teeth awkwardly clashed together as Yaz took her non-existent breath away before moving back down the mottled white-grey slope of her neck. Teeth didn’t bite this time, merely grazed over the solid patches of skin crackling in the moonlight. The Doctor arched her back as explorative lips and tongue moved across her chest and took hold of her left nippe, the right breast being taken care of by Yaz’s free hand. It was hard to move under the increased muscular bulk of a half-shifted werewolf, though the added pressure that sat between the Doctor’s legs was a welcomed boon for her. Hips keened and cantered against yaz’s leg, grinding down against her thigh as she whined and muttered near silent expletives.

“You taste so much better like this Doctor. Like prey. Weak and warm and waiting for me.”

Oh. That was new. For both of them. Wrists twisted against Yaz’s hold, feeling claws scrape across her skin and drawing out a long groan from the Doctor as she arched her back into Yaz’s touch. She was soaring on a completely new high, wanting nothing more than to sink her teeth into Yaz’s shoulder, claw against her sculpted back, make her bleed and drink it all in. A woman once of honey and spice, Yaz had now become a heady musky and mix of earthy scents that drove her primal instincts wild. The bonding had only become more dramatic since her turning, and despite the ideals of the Doctor finding blood at more...reasonable sources, she still found it incredibly difficult to contain her oral fixation and deep-rooted desire to drink from her mate. Every part of her screamed to break free of her bonds, change the course of the tide, switch around so that she was in control. The Doctor wanted to bite her, claw at her, claim her as her own, drink in everything that was Yaz and tip her over the edge into oblivion.

“Let me see if the rest of you tastes just as good.”

Her wish for freedom came true, though at the expense of the rest of her clothing, clearly. When Yaz let go of her wrists, the Doctor shifted her hands to grip hard to the werewolf’s shoulders as she tore through tight faux-leather pants and scattered the remains into the distance. Clothes could be replaced. Always. Claws gripped to her thighs and pushed them apart, eager lips leaving kisses and bites to quivering flesh as the Doctor could do no more than curse the stars above for how quickly everything was going. She almost kneed Yaz in the ear, as her tongue drew a long flat line through her burning centre, dragging up her arousal. She chased the contact and swore in a forgotten language as Yaz huffed a deluge of warm air before diving back in once more.


	3. Week Three - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collection of prompts involving the thirteenth doctor x idris and thirteenth doctor x yasmin khan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Dance With Me:** Teen, thasmin  
>  **Blushing:** Teen, thidris  
>  **You Are Beautiful:** Mature, thasmin
> 
> (I had a bad physical health week so all the prompts are set back, and will be uploaded in smaller chunks. I appreciate your patience <3)

14 - "Dance with me"

The room was filled with a gentle hum of string instruments, light chatter between the guests at the gala moving in and out of the musical notes. Glass dome ceiling was alight with the night sky, blazing stars and the glow of an aurora crossing over the inky black, a brilliant backdrop to the evening’s events. When the Doctor had asked her to go out for the night, and to wear the finest clothes she could find in the expansive TARDIS wardrobe, she had not expected to be surrounded by the historical elite. Though, the Doctor assured her that their presence was welcomed – she had been invited by a princess no less – and really she was just going to save face with the locals after saving them from some clearly alien goings on a few weeks earlier. The advantage of a time machine was that she had put it off for so long now, though the rest of the people were none the wiser. Yaz had never been to such a beautiful place before, never tasted food so rich and moreish, and certainly never been exposed to live classical music on such an intimate scale. Quite frankly, it was beautiful beyond words.

Despite it all though, that wasn't where Yaz was keeping her eye.

She was too busy looking at the Doctor, and had been for at least ten minutes by her best guess. It was hard not to, considering her attire. Despite her face being hidden underneath the navy feathered mask, Yaz knew it was her by the way her hair curled and twisted in the most effortless ways. How the sharp and crisp lines of her suit seemed to hug every curve and soft line of her body, and yet left her still mysterious and enigmatic. The deep navy material almost glittered like the stars themselves, iridescent and flickering all the colours of the universe with every swift motion of her arms. Hints of white could be seen as the sleeves of her jacket rode up, revealing a crisp shirt held close by star shaped cufflinks. The Doctor continued to be articulate and bold with her body as she held the rapt attention of a group, Yaz hearing the chorus of laughter at something she had said. With a quiet sigh, hands lightly readjusting her own mask, Yaz pressed herself further against a marbled pillar. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a man approach her, though barely made a move to notice his presence, even as he inquired for a dance. Yaz didn't dance. Couldn't even. As she turned to face him - and politely turn down his generous offer - she felt two taps against her bare shoulder. There was the Doctor, at her side, eyes more focused on her suitor than Yaz herself.

"Yes, her dress is quite lovely, isn't it? Made by the finest silk weavers and embellished with tiny chips of moonstone to emulate the stars themselves. Though, if you'd be so kind, sir, my lady and I have another engagement to attend to."

Yaz had never heard the Doctor speak so formally before, the words strange on such an accent-heavy tongue. Yet they sounded perfectly in place, and the gentleman in question simply bowed and scurried off back into the masses with a muted apology. Dark eyes turned back to the Doctor, heat rapidly rising into Yaz's cheeks as she thanked the mask for saving her further embarrassment. The Doctor held out a hand, no longer covered by silken gloves, and tilted her head towards the ballroom floor where many were gathering for the final moment of the gala.

"Yasmin Khan, will you do me the greatest honour, of having this dance with me?"

Starstruck, dazed and bewildered, Yaz wordlessly took the Doctor's hand and allowed herself to be pulled towards the centre of the floor. One hand wrapped tightly around her waist and pulled her impossibly close to the Doctor, while the other held one hand out with a soft touch. Yaz placed her free hand on the Doctor's shoulder, drawn in by the feel of silk and the scent of wild forests. She allowed herself to be guided back and forth across the marble floors, eyes never leaving the Doctor's face as she twisted and turned around the other guests. The music had picked up pace, many more pairs of people joining the dance. Though none of them mattered to Yaz at all, she was far too lost in the flecks of bright gold that glittered in the eyes of the silent Time Lord. Her steps were sure and calculated, moving in perfect synchronicity with the rest of the crowd. Every twirl, every push and pull. As the music rose to a crescendo, Yaz knew a change of partners was imminent, and yet she stayed exactly where she was. The Doctor expertly dodged a passing of women, holding onto Yaz as if her life depended on it, turning further and further away from the masses.

While she could still hear the music - a tantalising tone of trills - it was muted by the heavy velvet drapes that the Doctor had dragged her through. The space behind them was another room, smaller than the ballroom itself, but still a wide space to move around in. Dark eyes studied the Doctor briefly, before she saw the flicker of a nervous smile.

"More room to move here. Less likely to have someone want to lure you away too."

“Why does it sound like you were the one who wanted to lure me away, Doctor?”

Yaz gained no response to her questioning remark, only a slightly shrug of the Doctor’s shoulders, before she was pulled in once more. The music was fading away into nothing, the night drawing to a close, though the Doctor still continued to dance. Her motions were slower now, eyes permanently affixed to Yaz, unblinking. Being under such scrutiny was terrifying and thrilling all in equal measure, and it was hard for Yaz to not stop breathing as the Time Lord drew her face close to her ear.

“Perhaps that was the plan all along. To…lure you.”

Such simple words sounded delightfully decadent all of a sudden, Yaz’s eyes widening as she felt her body dropping to the floor at an alarming rate, but coming short at the last second. She stared up at the Doctor, watched the nervous smile turn sly for just a second, before soft lips pressed against her own and the whole world seemed to melt away into nothing. Yaz could no longer hear the music, just the heavy beat of her heart ringing loud in her ears as she sighed into the kiss. The Doctor gripped her so tight around the waist, lowering her other hand down and slowly bringing her back up again. When they broke apart, Yaz had never felt so lost and empty, something humming in her mind and through her veins – get the Doctor alone – and leaving her to softly whine.

* * *

15 - Blushing

“You know, Doctor, I think that we should perhaps swap pet names.”

Peering her head out from underneath a tangled overhead mass of wires, the Doctor slowly lifted the dust smeared goggles from over her eyes and stared at the source of the voice. Hazel-green eyes drifted across the empty space underneath the TARDIS console, settling on a figure a few feet away. Idris tapped her foot idly against the lower step, seemingly staring off into space as she spoke. It was something she did often – still not quite used to being around physically, again – though if anything the Doctor found it even more endearing whenever she caught it. More to the point, it had been several hours since she had even heard Idris speak physically, so used to the constant mental stream of conversation through their psychic link. Downing her spanner into the pocket of her apron, the Doctor shrugged her shoulders and continued to work on the current thread of wires closest to her.

“How come? Don’t you like yours?”

Yours could be referring to a great different many the Doctor had chosen for their ship – companion – over the years, and she needed far more clarification than she was being given. The Doctor heard a faint laugh from over in the corner, a smile coming onto her own face as she managed to untangle the first of many complicated knots.

“Oh no, it isn’t that. More…I think it would suit you more.”

With her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, the Doctor kept her concentration on the task at hand, barely registering the reply she gave to Idris.

“Which one?”

“Sexy.”

No sooner had the words left Idris’ mouth, did sparks fly between the Doctor and a surprised yelp echo around the room. The lights underneath the console briefly went out, the under-space drenched in pitch black, before bright gold flooded back around them. Gathering up the skirts of her dress, Idris stood up from the steps and slowly made her way around towards her thief, eyes scanning the many wires before settling on a bewildered and frizzy-haired Time Lord. She raised a hand and gently smooth her hair down, though paused as she took a moment to study the Doctor. Pink had started to colour her cheeks, and she was scrambling at her goggles to remove them.

“Are you alright? You don’t usually trip the mainframe with the inclusion of the shield generator wires. Nor the atmospheric compressor.”

Blinking once, twice, the Doctor’s eyes moved between the wires in her hand and back towards Idris.

“Is that what I did? Huh. Guess I know not to do that ever again. What did you say? Before?”

Taking her hand back, Idris placed both of them on her hips as she looked over the Doctor one more time .She had known her thief to be a little on the…reckless side. A little stubborn, and dim. But at no point had she ever known them to make a mistake to the calibre her current Doctor just had. They knew the inner workings like the back of their hand, inside and out, top to bottom. Despite them throwing the manual away. They just knew what they needed to do. Mistakes were calculated, and usually had some kind of reason. Even looking into the Doctor’s mind, all their scrambled thoughts, she couldn’t see anything at all. No psychic block, just…normal Doctor-y thoughts.

“I said that you would suit ‘Sexy’ more than me, Doctor.”

Idris watched as the Doctor’s mouth dropped slightly, her body growing rigid and eyes widening. Despite a curious reaction, she was more interested in the fact that another darker shade of colour had appeared on the Time Lord’s cheeks, and seemed to be spreading down her chest as well. She could feel something different in the air – only for a moment – and was almost sure that the Doctor’s pulse had racked up another couple of beats a second on top. Taking a step closer, surprised at how the Doctor seemed to move back, Idris couldn’t help but question her.

“Are you quite sure you’re alright? Thousands of years together across all of time and space, and I have never seen you so…”

She gestured vaguely to the space between them.

“Oh, what’s the word. Never mind, it’s not important. What is important, is why you look like a startled babe.”

“Flustered. I’m not flustered. Who said anything about being flustered.”

Idris paused then, noting the higher tone in the Doctor’s voice as her eyes looked everywhere except for her. That, and she was growing as red as a freshly bloomed rose. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought - potentially - of what she had done to her thief. Slowly, she pressed on towards the Doctor, backing her up to the nearest wall that was free from dust and cables, standing over her with new knowledge buzzing around inside her head. Thousands of years through time and space, and more knowledge than most beings in the universe, were sure to come in handy for her now. Tentative fingers brushed against the Doctor’s burning cheek as she leant down and closer, watching hazel-green eyes widen and darken.

“I think you like being called sexy, don’t you, thief?”

Once more, the Doctor was left speechless, mouth dropping a little further as she just intently stared at Idris. For all the times she was used to being in control, and having the high ground, having the tables turned over one little word was just-

“You’re blushing. I think I’ll take that as a yes…”

Leaning in closer and pressing her lips close to the Doctor’s ear, Idris couldn’t help but smile wider as she finished her sentence in a low, long drawn drawl.

“ _Sexy_.”

The Doctor’s eyes closed, head falling back against the wall as she sighed and her body trembled from the breath of air against her skin. Fingers knotted into fists against her hips as Idris hummed softly against her ear, hand holding the Doctor’s cheek as the other made its way around her waist and pressed them closer together. She felt the way her chest heaved under her, felt the rhythm of her hearts, the push against her hand as the Time Lord leant into her touch. Lips brushed past the shell of her ear, working along the curve of her jaw before she moved down the slim expanse of skin across her throat. There was an innate thrill in taking command away from the Doctor, the one person who had attempted to coerce her across the universe. Though, in reality, she had had the control all along. She was just finally taking advantage of it. As she kissed milky white skin, Idris heard the faintest whisper of a whine being pushed down, and tutted.

“Come now, Doctor, there’s only us down here. I know you can sing better than that. Let go for me. I want to hear you.”

Idris kissed her neck again, gradually moving to the side until she was peppering trails over her pulse point. The Doctor’s shoulders tensed further, desperately trying to hold onto something - anything - to not slip and tumble away into the great unknown. But she was powerless to the whims of Idris as she began to stroke her cheek and slide the hand around her waist further down. It was far too much for her, she couldn’t help it. Mixed into sighs and moans, were wild and un-earthly sounds. High rasps of melodic tunes accompanied by unfurled hands clinging hard to the back of Idris’ dress as she tentatively bit down on sensitive flesh. Idris closed her eyes, drank the Doctor in, felt herself glowing inside from the dulcet Gallifreyan floating freely around the room.

* * *

16 - "You are beautiful"

She knew every single word in the English language, every word that was to ever come into play, words from across hundreds of different species and timelines. She knew the words of Gallifrey, wanted nothing more than to sing them out from the tops of her lungs so that, perchance, gods could hear her songs. Then again, to her, there were no words that could truly encapsulate the depths of her adoration, devotion, desire and need to devour and consume and explore everything in that moment. Nothing could compare, not even remotely, to what she saw in front of her. And while no words could do her justice, the Doctor was possessed by an unbridled desire to let Yasmin Khan know just how highly she thought of her. How much she adored her. From the deep flush that coloured her cheeks a darker shade of warm brown, to the gentle lines that circled her mouth as she muttered and mumbled miniscule moans. How her hands disappeared into cotton sheets, fingers gripping into the fabric and straining under the pressure. The Doctor was lost in an overload for the senses, but it was the most wonderful of things.

Lips dragged over Yaz's shoulder, into the divot where bone met muscle, followed the sharp curve across to slender collarbones and the tender, sensitive skin that started to redden from the touch of her teeth. She could feel Yaz's hips twisting underneath the weight of her body, smiled into her kisses as she travelled further up her throat. The beads of sweat on her skin tasted of fine salt and perfume, a lingering touch of coconut and citrus against her tongue, as intoxicating as it was addictive and alluring. Fingers groped and squeezed supple flesh, holding tight to the shape of Yaz's rear through silken briefs, grounding h herself so deeply in the moment for fear of slipping away into hazed lust. The Doctor swore that their bodies were so perfectly in sync, intertwined at a level far greater than the outward presence they kept. A connection burning deep through their veins, into their bones, mind and body and soul merging into something new and exciting. Heart beats aligning, breathing in tandem, an unspoken bond of where she should lay her home.

“You are beautiful, Yaz.”

Leaden words were mumbled into the side of Yaz’s neck, blonde hair brushing the underside of her jaw as she pressed hot open mouthed kisses down tense muscle and taut skin, drinking in every hitch of breath and whispered sigh like honey drops. For the vast majority of her life, the Doctor had reasoned that her own language was the most beautiful in the universe, but it could not compare an iota to the symphony of Yasmin Khan. Each kiss let a new sound dance inside her ears and send warmth flooding through her body, tingles up her spine and hairs standing on end as she swore to the stars to drag more and more from Yaz. Teeth dragged over her skin, leaving marks of devotion as the Doctor shifted further south still. Fingers wrapped around the lace trim waistband of Yaz’s briefs, tugging them down sculpted thighs as her lips crossed over and around one breast and down her side. She could feel the twitch of muscles and rise of goosebumps, shifting her body around to allow Yaz to kick her underwear to one side.

“Every little part of you, is stunning. The way your arms strain. The soft, mottled skin of your thighs. How sensitive you are, just above your hip bones, and underneath your breasts.”

The Doctor punctuated her points by nosing underneath Yaz’s right breast and pressing a gentle kiss there, feeling the heavy rise of eager hips and arched back, followed by a strained moan. Hands pressed down against smooth hip bones, keeping Yaz rooted to the mattress as the Doctor moved her lips up further, until cool breath danced over sensitive skin. Hazel-green eyes watched in wonder as the goosebumps followed her, how the dark and pebbled areola seemed to blossom almost, the tip of her tongue drawing tight and even circles around her nipple. From pressing into a soft mount, to lavishing attention to something more tangible and firm, the Doctor hummed softly before enveloping Yaz between her lips, savouring beyond all else the feeling of Yaz rising to her touch. Nails bore into her hips, gently still, a reminder of something more. A promise. If only she could get her fill first, tease and tender Yaz towards another flash of passion. Being so close, so deeply consumed by Yaz, it was hard not to let her mind and machinations leech out into the world around her.

_ ‘Soft. Beautiful. Warm. Inviting. Ethereal. Mouthwatering. Stunning. Sexy.’ _

Her mind ran wild with every word she could think of, no longer caring that their superficial meanings were nothing short of inaccurate. Yaz was far greater than anything she could think, or say or feel. Her body was nothing short of mythological to her - a beauty incomparable - and which was nothing to say of her mind to. Her personality. Her history. Everything and anything and all things Yaz were everything to the Doctor. One hand strayed from the handle-hold against pillowed hips, snaking up stretched muscles and taking pause against Yaz’s other breast. She pressed with the heel of her palm, finger and thumb mimicking the trail of her tongue as she held silken weight and curves in her hand. Marbled dents of silver streaks shifted under her fingertips, eyes screwing tighter just enough as Yaz’s hands made their way from the mass of cotton and settled into bristly golden hair.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

Over and over, Yaz repeated her mantra, no longer holding back reservations of decency. With her body falling to the wayside, the Doctor shifted her hand once more. Fingertips followed the line of her stomach and around her hips, grazing over tender and eagerly awaiting thighs. No longer resting on skin, the Doctor’s bare torso dropped slowly onto the sheets, back pressed against one thigh as her hand found a home between two bodies and a source of heat and necar divine. Lips pulled away from Yaz’s breast, just enough for the Doctor to whisper against her.

“Believe me, I won't.”


	4. Week Three - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collection of prompts involving the thirteenth doctor x yasmin khan and whittaker!master x yasmin khan (two sides of the thasmin coin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Wet:** Mature, thasmin  
>  **You Can Look, But You Can't Touch:** Explicit, thasmin  
>  **Messy:** Explicit, w!master thasmin
> 
> (Once again, experiencing a dip in productivity, but I hope this is worth the wait still~)

17 - Wet

She knew that the slip-proof mat and grippy tiles would come in handy, along with the small railings either side of the shower head. Not that she had ever planned to use the shower for anything other than washing under. Or maybe a little daydreaming. That was one of her favourite pastimes. But, perhaps, she had found a new one. One of her favourite things to do lately, after a long day of running around, was to have a wind-down with Yaz. Sometimes that would consist of mugs of hot chocolate under piles of blankets and soft lights. Other times, it was relaxing in the spa room and the whirlpool bath. There was something unmistakably intimate about washing someone else, and allowing someone to do the same in kind. Tending to bruises and scrapes, massaging dirt and grime from hair. There was so much closeness on offer. The Doctor's favourite thing to do was trail kisses wherever she washed, watching Yaz come undone underneath her. It was never meant to be a sexual gesture, an act of foreplay, but there was something undeniably charged in the shower. Something bubbling under the surface between them after a surprisingly calm day. Unused adrenaline.

"You seem tense, Yaz."

The Doctor hummed against the side of Yaz's ear as she lay her chin on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist as they stood close to the stream of water. Fingers shifted down across her hips, teasing touches and leaving the Doctor smiling as she heard a breathy sigh in response. Lips pressed into the dip on her shoulder, tasting lingering fresh water and hints of apple and coconut body wash, revelling in how Yaz melted and exposed more of herself to the Doctor. Careful with her feet and how she moved, she guided Yaz to twist around, snaking around her body until the Doctor pressed her into the warm tiles. Hands moved and led her to hold onto the rails, sliding her body further up Yaz's as she wrapped herself around her waist again.

"I think I know how to help you relax...if you wanted."

"D-Doctor...don't tease me...please."

"Mmm, but it's so much fun. I love seeing you all worked up."

She kissed the back of her neck, shifting wet hair aside with her nose as she dragged her teeth over smooth skin. Yaz shuddered, fingers gripping hard to the rails as she pushed her hips further back against the Doctor, revelling in how perfectly their bodies seemed to fit together. Water ran down her back, cooling the burning touch of the Time Lord as she pressed her forehead to the tiles to steady herself further. The Doctor's fingers drew circles against Yaz's hips, one arm slowly making its way back around her waist as the other gently urged shaking thighs apart. Breathing low into Yaz's ear, the Doctor dragged fingers up the inside of her thigh, squeezing at the soft muscle and skin and revelling in the frustrated whine filling her senses. She carefully moved her fingers higher, teasing across and finding trails of water along with another kind of wetness in her wake. Though, it certainly wasn't enough for her to work with at the moment. Still. It was good enough. Maybe Yaz really was wound up too tightly.

"Let me take care of you, Yaz. Just relax for me. That's it. Good girl. Like that. Let go."

The Doctor parted the way with her index and middle fingers, rolling her thumb over the faintest of mounds. She caught wind of a gasp, felt Yaz start to shudder again as she stroked her, lips continuing to kiss at the nape of her neck as she cooed softly. By the reactions she was getting to such simple and slow touches, Yaz wasn’t going to last too long. But that didn’t bother her. It was just something to help her relax. For all her posturing and teasing, sometimes even she enjoyed an easy release. Teeth took hold of some of Yaz’s skin, a low growl in her throat as Yaz’s hips bucked back into her own, legs shaking further and whines growing longer. The Doctor pulled her fingers back and drew short and sharp circles around Yaz’s clit, keeping a firm hold with her palm against her pubic bone. Much like she had thought, it only took a couple of twists in quick succession with her teeth leaving a mark against her neck before Yaz grew taut and sighed softly. Keeping her fingers still, the Doctor stood and waited a couple of seconds, waiting for the tremors to subside before releasing her hold with teeth and arms. Yaz slumped slightly, just for a moment, before she craned her neck back and reached out to kiss the Doctor gently under the stream of the shower.

“M’sorry that was so fast.”

She mumbled against the Doctor’s lips, body withdrawing from the familiar touch before the Doctor pulled her back in for a tight hug and several awkward kisses to her cheek.

“Doesn’t matter. Did it help?”

“Y-yeah...it did. Thank you.”

Again, they stayed close together under the falling water turning slowly as the Doctor hummed an unknown tune and Yaz found every muscle suddenly feeling lighter and as if the world was floating around her.

“Can I wash your hair, Doctor?”

Yaz felt a nod against her shoulder as the Doctor let her go again, watched as she leant across to the side and picked up two different bottles. She held them out towards Yaz with a smile on her face, trying to blow a drop of water from the tip of her nose as she lifted each up in turn.

“What’d’ya think this time? Should I go for the old eucalyptus and mango, or something a little more earthy with...uh...whatever this one is. It’s not an earth one, but it smells like pine and cinnamon somehow.”

Eyes scanned over both of the bottles before Yaz reached out for the strange alien bottle that was shaped like a stack of bubbles, smirking as she swept wet hair from the Doctor’s eyes and kissed the drop of water from the end of her nose.

“Let’s go see what this one is like for you. Maybe I won’t find all my shampoo used in a week if you like this one.”

“S’not my fault that you have the best shampoos, Yaz.”

“Sure. Come on, turn around so I can get to your hair.”

Putting the other bottle on the side of the shower where it had come from, Yaz let a couple of squirts of strange green liquid pool into her hands before she let it slide into the Doctor’s hair. Sure enough, she was hit with a strong wave of pine forests and green bubbles quickly foaming in the Doctor’s short blonde hair. The tips of her fingers were tingling, which was a little disconcerting, but the Doctor was starting to hum again and skin into her touch, so surely it wasn’t that bad at all.

* * *

18 - "You can look, but you can't touch"

The Doctor tugged at the thick, red leather cuffs around her wrists, gold chains clattering as she whimpered and whined. Her knees were pushed out either side of her hips as she sat in a w-shape, hips rocking back and forth to gain some kind of friction, smouldering eyes glued to Yaz as she slowly slid up and down against the shining toy between her legs. She was so close, so close that the Doctor could almost taste the sweet tang of sweat and her arousal, but too far for her to lean over and kiss her. Just far enough away that she was left unable to do anything at all. Yaz wasn't looking at her though, her eyes were shut as she lifted and dropped her hips, one hand firmly grasping the base of the toy as her other groped and squeezed at her left breast. Fingers tweaked at her nipple, mouth dropped as she panted and moaned loudly. Her climax was rapidly approaching, but she held it off commendably, the harsh pace tapering off to a crawl as she opened her eyes at a particularly frustrated whine from the Doctor. Dark eyes stared with arched brows, tongue running across her lips as she slowly sank down on the toy and watched as the Doctor swallowed hard.

"Y-Yaz...please…"

"I told you, Doctor. You can look, but you can't touch."

Her words were slow and silken, drawled out through a hoarse throat, the Doctor tugging against her bonds again as her head rolled back and she practically melted into begging.

"Please, please, please, please, pl-"

"No. Not until I'm done. Look at me, Doctor. I want you to watch me while I fuck myself."

Taking her hand from her breast, Yaz snapped her fingers to get the Doctor's attention, feeling a hit of adrenaline and arousal as hazel-green eyes snapped down to face her. She could see how dilated the Doctor's pupils were, how her fingers clung to the chains of her cuffs, body arching forward to try and close the distance between them. A deep crimson flush was spread across her skin, highlighting trails of freckles and dimples. With a smirk growing on her face - emboldened by the power she held over the Doctor - Yaz set about where she left off. Though, instead of working at her breast, nimble fingers trailed down her torso and thigh. Upon the upward turn, Yaz leant her body back slightly, angling her hips for a deeper thrust and all but crying from the new position, fingers parting her labia as her ears were filled with a chorus of sounds. Blood rushing through her eardrums, slick and sloppy sounds of skin on silicone, and the utterly depraved moans of the Doctor that mixed in with her own.

"Doctor...oh... you feel so good. Please... fuck me harder... I'm so close…"

“God...yaz...d-don’t...you...oh god…”

Comfortable with how she was riding the toy, Yaz moved her fingers to start sliding back and forth over her clit at a quick pace. SHe could barely feel her arms as she felt the climax quickly rising through her body, but it didn’t matter. All she cared about was putting on a show of the Doctor, and judging by how much she was cursing, it was working. Fire burnt inside her lungs as she twisted and turned her hips to hit a more shallow stroke, feeling the ribbed tip of the toy pressing against her as her breaths became more erratic and staggered. Having her fingers work in tight circles a few times over, it didn’t take long for the climax to finally reach its precipice and tip her over far more gently than she had expected from the buildup. It was a slow release, leaving her gasping for air as she slowed her pace to a snail’s crawl and let the sensations wash over her. The burn quickly abated, leaving her enough room to finally breathe as she slowly slid the toy from between her legs and held it firm in her hand before dropping back against the bed. She stayed there for a moment, opening her eyes to look up at the ceiling of her bedroom. It took a few more seconds before she felt the tingling leave her body, the muscle weakness settled back to strength, so she could sit up and look at the Doctor.

She was biting down on her lower lip, still groaning and griping. Yaz could see every muscle in her arms straining as she almost tugged the chains from the bedpost, the harsh rise and fall of her chest sending another strange rush of pride and adrenaline through her body. Dark eyes looked down at the toy in her hands, body leaning over the bed to put it on the floor to clean later. She could do with a bath after that, for sure, feeling the familiar stick of drying lube against her inner thighs. Still, there were more pressing matters to attend to; namely a Time Lord who was on the brink of going feral from frustration. Wiping the sticky substances from her fingers against the bedsheets, she crawled across the bed on her hands and knees before kneeling in front of the Doctor and cupping her cheek with one hand.

“I’m so proud of you for waiting, Doctor. Did you like the show?”

Sometimes, even Yaz amazed herself with the tone and bravado she could put on, but then again she knew exactly what the Doctor liked, and this was just one of the ways to break her down.

“C...can you...can you please...please Yaz...l-let me outta these...I’m burning up.”

“Shhh. It’s okay, Doctor. You did brilliantly. Let me get these off you.”

Pushing the Doctor back to sitting upright to loosen the tension in the chains, Yaz leant across both of her sides and carefully undid the clasps on the cuffs one by one. When the first dropped to the bed, the Doctor’s arm dropped limply by her side, followed by the other and the rest of her body as she heaved a heavy sigh. Yaz helped her to sit upright again, and when she was met with dark eyes, she could see the hint of tears starting to bubble in the corners of her eyes. Yaz delicately kissed them away, peppering her lips all over the Doctor’s burning face and shushing her slowly as she felt weak arms wrap around her waist and hold her close. It was a new level of frustration and neediness that Yaz had never seen before, something she wanted to calm her down from and show her that everything was okay. Yaz pulled away and guided the Doctor’s arms away from her, picking her right up and laying kisses against the palm of her hand and down to her wrists. There were no marks there, but she could feel the sweat from the leather and made sure to lay extra attention to pale skin. She repeated the tender touches to the Doctor’s left palm and wrist before kissing her tenderly on the lips and smiling.

“You've been so good, Doctor. I’m sorry for teasing you for so long. Is there anything you need me to do for you?”

“Can...can I get a hug? Just for a minute. Just to stop the tightness.”

“Of course. Come here. Let me know when you’re ready for your reward.”

* * *

19 - Messy

“I have been dying to do this all day, you have no idea.”

“Well, _you’re_ the one who decided to wear that while we were laying waste to that city earlier. It’s not my fault you’re so worked up.”

“Please stop talking and just put that pretty little mouth of yours to better use. Don’t make me punish you, _Yasmin_.”

At the mention of her full name, Yaz paused, raising her eyebrows at the Master as they stayed locked in a hard stare. Slowly, she crossed her arms underneath her chest, making an effort to push her breasts out as she shook her head, eyes travelling up and down the Master as she sat spread at the end of the bed.

“And if _you_ even dare try to play the bad guy tonight, I will simply walk out of this room and leave you a frustrated, whimpering mess. Got it... _Theta_?”

There was an abject thrill behind her eyes as the Master’s mouth dropped and a deep crimson flush appeared across her cheeks. Yaz’s hidden ace had always been the Master’s old nickname. Something she had only reserved for the most dearest of people she knew. One of whom was the Doctor. It was how she had picked up the little tidbit of information after interrogating him one too many times. With a flash of a grin, Yaz couldn’t help but laugh as the Master huffed and pouted, throwing her arms slightly as she reclined back against the bed. It was indeed completely her fault that she had spent the day hooked up to the telepathic toy, apparently waiting for just the right moment to spring it on her unsuspecting partner. But Yaz had seen the bulge in her trousers since the moment the TARDIS had landed on the planet's surface, keeping the information inside until then. With enough electricity in the air between them to fuel another nuclear reactor meltdown, Yaz took her minor victory and idly walked over towards the bedside cabinet. A second or two of rummaging around inside the drawer, she pulled out a small unlabelled bottle and made her way back to the Master. She held it out towards her, slowly dropping down onto her knees before her and looking up with wide, expectant eyes.

“Thank you, Yaz. Come, up here.”

With the bottle in hand, the Master shuffled up the bed until she was against the pillows, the glittering red toy between her legs bouncing slightly as she moved. Yaz followed by crawling beside her, sitting back on her knees as she watched the Master flip the cap off the top of the bottle and let some of the clear liquid fall into one of her hands. Tossing the bottle aside, she let it slide between her fingers and both palms, before she reached down towards the toy and slowly started to move her hands up and down the shaft. It took all of her strength to keep the eye contact going, but she couldn’t help but bite down on her lip to suppress the low groan.

“Oh, I forgot how good this felt.”

“Luck of the regeneration, huh?”

“Having something I can just...discard, is much more preferable. Besides, don’t tell me you don’t prefer this to something...organic.”

Yaz hummed quietly to herself, shaking her head in indifference. Though, the truth was, there was little chance of her ever giving her heart over to the Master if the genetic lottery of regeneration had played any other way. She was completely enamoured with the feral blonde, which said nothing about the attraction she felt towards her body as well as her mind.

“Now then, let’s get you warmed up, shall we? I somehow doubt the foreplay has kept things warm and loose. Sit.”

Having successfully coated the toy in lube, still feeling the psychic connection of pleasure tingling inside her brain, the Master pulled one of her hands away and gestured towards her mouth. Yaz wasted no time in assuming the desired position, hooking one leg over until she was settled either side of the Master’s shoulders, gasping as she felt slick fingers grip her hip and push her down without grace or tact. The first hit of her tongue was enough to send Yaz over the edge as it was, body arching and hips grinding down almost instantly. The master eagerly lapped at her, working her tongue between her folds at a fast pace, dipping ever so slightly inside and making sure she was thoroughly ready for the experience. The lube-slick hand against her hip moved and pushed past her tongue, pushing inside and curling up as Yaz moaned and pressed her head to the top of the headboard.

“Oh fuck...Master…”

Saliva and lube mixed with the rush of arousal that came from Yaz, small beads trickling down the inside of her thighs as the Master hummed in pride. Happy with her work, she removed her fingers and groped at Yaz’s rear, pushing her away with a grunt.

“Now we can, my dear. See if you can take this for me.”

Whining at the loss of contact, Yaz shifted her legs back to the right side of the Master before shuffling down the bed until she knelt at her hips. Once again, she hooked her legs over and perched on her knees, hovering above the thick curve of the toy, staring at the Master. Her eyes had darkened considerably, looking more mahogany like her own, a wicked smile on lipstick-smeared lips as she gave a nod and playfully bucked her hips up so the toy brushed past Yaz. The moment the two of them made some kind of physical contact, slick silicone against slick skin, both of them moaned low. The Master resisted all urge to just grab Yaz and make her move down faster, eyes closing and revelling in the sensation of tightness slowly enveloping her. It was hot, a clear burning travelling through the toy and into her brain as her fingers clung to the sheets while Yaz panted on her descent.

“Gods...you’re amazing, Yaz.”

“You’re one to talk. I can feel everything...I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am. Because a shower is definitely gonna be called for after- f-fuck!”

Opening her eyes, the Master moved her hands to grip against Yaz’s hips, tilting her own up just enough so the toy hit inside her at the right angle to make Yaz almost fall limp against her.

“Try a bath, sweetheart, because trust me. Neither of us are gonna be able to walk after tonight. Lemme show you exactly how good this can feel.”


End file.
